The Prat and the Pauper
by Lya200
Summary: When he and Arthur are kidnapped during a hunting trip, Merlin learns two things about their captors. First off, their problem is not with Uther or Arthur; it is with nobility period, and they want all the heirs to whatever title. Second off, they do not know which one of the two is Prince Arthur. Rated T for torture. Eventual Magic Reveal
1. The Troubles of Hunting

_**So, for whatever reason, I decided to post another Merlin FanFiction other than "Arthur." This one actually is medieval, though, which makes me really excited because I just love medieval fantasy!**_

 _ **Sorry.**_

 _ **This fanfic takes place sometime during Season 2. Remember that episode, "Lancelot and Guinevere?" Well, this takes place instead of that. Anything that occurs prior to that episode will still be canon to this story, but as for that episode and on...heheheh...ugh.**_

 _ **The title is a play on "The Prince and the Pauper." 'Nough said.**_

 ** _Rated T for torture._**

 ** _Now let's see if I can keep a steady updating schedule with this..._**

 ** _A soundtrack to listen to while reading_**

-"Arthur's Final Battle" by Rob Lane (Merlin; Haha, see, I finally took time to find the composer)

 ** _Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin. If I did, Merlin would have revealed his magic a lot sooner in the show._**

Let's Go On An Adventure

* * *

The Prat and the Pauper

The Troubles of Hunting

Their problems always started the exact same way: with a hunt. Merlin _did_ protest a couple of days ago when the hunt started. He of course tried to convince Arthur that it was a bad idea. He had one of his so-called "funny feelings," and, while he was loathe to admit it, Merlin knew that he had at least partially concerned the prince. Not that it changed anything. He still was adamant about this hunt, and Merlin still had to come along.

"Why do you always make me come along for your senseless slaughtering of harmless animals?" Merlin complained for the umpteenth time since the hunting trip began two days ago. He groaned and had to fight the urge to throw something at the prat.

Arthur rolled his eyes at his troublesome manservant "for not understanding." "It's not 'senseless,' Merlin. It's called hunting. And besides, you are my servant. Someone is supposed to carry back the prizes. You're supposed to come along... even though your tracking skills are _horrendous_."

Merlin scowled at Arthur. _Why did he have to be a prat sometimes? I swear, it has to be somewhere in the job description of a prince or something._ "Hey, I can be a decent tracker when I want to be. Like when you land your royal ass in danger. If I had a gold coin for every time I've saved your life, I'd be richer than your father." Merlin knew that he was exaggerating slightly, but just _slightly_.

Arthur playful punched his shoulder. "Don't be such an idiot, _Mer_ -" He stared back behind them, as if sensing a disturbance.

Merlin, oblivious, argued, "Look, I am sm-"

"Merlin," Arthur whispered warningly, " _shut up_."

"You can't control my mouth, Sire." Merlin, however, was not oblivious to how strained Arthur's voice became, and he too started to become a little wary.

"No, really. Just be quiet." Arthur's order sounded desperate.

"Oh. Now what-"

Arthur did not answer. Unsheathing his sword, the blond prince crept up to the bushes. He was trained to kill since birth, more than what Merlin could claim for himself. Aloud, anyway. If anyone could defend them from bandits, it would be Arthur... with the help of Merlin's magic. However, since his gift had to remain secret, he could not take any credit.

Then there was a loud (and rather pointless) battle-cry. One of the pirates of the forest ran out of the trees, brandishing a wicked-looking cutlass. He was quickly followed by the rest of his cronies, each wielding a long dagger or a broadsword or some other weapon, each with the intent to maim Prince Arthur.

Merlin squealed when a throwing knife was thrown his way. His eyes flashed gold, and the knife slowed to a stop before gravity took its toll on the blade. Merlin then picked it up, and with the help of magic again, he sent it back in the direction it came. It lodged itself in the skull of the bandit who threw it.

It was then when the warlock decided it would be better to continue his line of work by a tree.

* * *

Arthur, on the other hand, had few qualms fighting these men. True, the battle would have been so much easier if he had back up, but he was doing fairly well for a lone fighter. He did not need Merlin, who was probably hiding behind a tree for dear life. The girl.

He clashed his sword against the deadly cutlass of the bandit. The metal-on-metal created a high-pitched scraping noise. Arthur twisted the blade out of his opponent's hand. If this had been an honorable fight, he would have considered mercy. However, as it was twenty-to-one (twenty-to-two if you counted the ever-useless Merlin), he could not risk survivors.

As quickly as the first mini-duel ended, another started. A broad-shouldered brute with a mess of tar-colored hair charged at Arthur, recklessly swinging his rapier. Arthur personally was half-surprised, half-amused that he did not lop off the head of one of his comrades. It might have been because of the length of the blade, or it might have been just pure luck.

He brandished his sword to take on the bandit. Arthur's mind chose to ignore that this was a human being, possibly with a wife and family. There were people out there who loved him. But to Arthur, he was the enemy. He chose this life of purging, and he must die.

The criminal sliced clean through the air. Arthur's eyes widened, but he managed to have enough time to parry the blow. He kicked the outlaw's right knee in. The bandit cried out and stumbled backward, giving Arthur an opening. The prince stabbed the man in the stomach. As the marauder collapsed, Arthur removed the blade, deemed him as good as dead, and for good measure, slit the enemy's throat.

Already two others were upon him. However, to Arthur's luck, a hefty branch from the elm tree snapped and dropped on top of them. Incredible enough, this blow was enough to snap the necks of the raiders. To Arthur, this was a rather embarrassing way to die. _Who would want to die by a tree?_

It was remarkable that the branch chose that moment to break. Arthur wanted to know why. It was a nice day with no heavy winds. As far as he knew, no one had touched the tree. It might have just been the branch's time.

Arthur quickly shoved the thought to the back of his mind as another villain came within range. He refocused on the fight and concentrated on not dying. He plunged the blade through the man's heart and stepped away.

Arthur was a little taken aback that they weren't all coming at him at once. He was not complaining, but it was suspicious that they were not all jumping at the chance to kill the prince of Camelot at once. He can dwell on that later. For now, he had worse things to think about.

This time, the crook wielded a mace. Arthur dryly smiled as he was reminded of how terrible Merlin's mace skills were when they first met. Seeing the weapon reminded him of this every time. Despite that, circumstances were different, and Arthur could not afford to simply spare the enemy. He ducked underneath the spiked ball. Then the mace slowed. Disconcerted, the bandit stared at the weapon. As much as it hurt Arthur's honor, he took his chance and stuck him in the side. There was no way that he would recover from a wound like that.

 _Where did Merlin run off to?_ Arthur should not be worrying over the servant boy, _(What would father say?_ ) but he was. Of course he was. Arthur was to be king someday, and Merlin will technically be one of his subjects.

He risked a glance backward to find Merlin with his hand half-extended outward. The servant flushed and ducked even further behind the tree to get out of the line of the battle. Arthur did not blame him. Merlin had no skill when it came to a blade. Same with an axe, a knife, a mace, a crossbow, a bow and arrow, a scythe, just about anything. Actually, Arthur took that back. Merlin could decently throw a knife, and he might be able to use a pitchfork. How the boy managed to survive all this time without Arthur amazed him.

Smirking, Arthur turned back around to the next challenger with his hands raised, beckoning. "Well, come on then."

* * *

Eventually, the fight ended. There were corpses littered everywhere. Arthur self-consciously dodged dismembered limbs until he made it to Merlin's hiding place. He put away his sword and reached out for the raven-haired boy with one hand. With the other, he wiped the sweat off his brow. "See, _Mer_ lin. There was nothing to be scared of."

Merlin countered, "I was not scared." He grabbed his right wrist nervously, leading Arthur to not believe him.

"Then why were you hiding by that tree?" Arthur crossed his arms victoriously.

Merlin blushed from embarrassment. "I was not _hiding_. I was watching your back, _as_ _usual_."

Arthur raised his hands in mock-defeat. "Right Merlin. Believe what you want to believe."

Merlin stuck out his tongue childishly, but it was painfully obvious that he was no longer angry. "Clotpole."

Arthur grinned. "Idiot."

"Prat."

Arthur's mouth moved to form his comeback, but then he saw him. There was an archer hidden in the woods, notching an arrow into his crossbow. He was not aiming for Arthur, however; he was aiming straight for Merlin.

Fear overtook the prince as he gaped at the survivor. "Merlin!"

Merlin started to turn around. "Wha-"

But he was too slow, and Arthur knew it. As the arrow was released, Arthur did the first thing he could think of. He leapt forward, shoving his servant to the ground. The arrow pierced through his chainmail and embedded itself in his right shoulder. "Agh!"

Arthur started to feel dizzy. _This was no ordinary arrow._ He toppled over on top of poor, flustered Merlin. Stars started to cloud up his vision as Arthur lost consciousness. _No. Must... Stay... Awake. For Merlin. Staaaayyyy awaaaaakkkee._

Then darkness overcame Prince Arthur, and he saw no more.

* * *

"Arthur!" Merlin pushed him off. "Arthur!" But he was unconscious. Whatever was on that arrow tip, it was fast-acting, and it filled Merlin with dread, especially knowing that it could have been lying there on the forest floor. But Arthur saved him.

The archer in the trees stumbled, trying to flee to wherever he hailed from. Merlin did not care about if his secret got out. This man was the only one there to see, and he was as good as dead in Merlin's eyes. Shooting Arthur will be the last thing this man would ever do.

Merlin's eyes flashed a deadly gold, and the bandit tripped. Merlin rolled the outlaw onto his back, seething. Arthur's sword was in his pale and unsteady hand. He held it over the man's chest. "This is for him, you stupid prick!"

The plunderer, seeing no better option, taunted, "Would you have the _guts_ to do it, boy? I saw what your master did. Pretty brave, but also really stupid. Caught me off guard. No matter. Soon, they'll be here, and they'll take your little _prince_ and treat him with the disrespect he deserves. You are a traitor to all us common folk. All those nobles are the same. He'll betray you in the end!"

Inside, Merlin was raging. He did not know the extent of what was ailing his prince. He shifted the blade to above the throat and stabbed the man there. "Stop talking." He yanked out the blade and left the murderer to drown in his own blood. He was not the first person Merlin ever killed, and he certainly would not be the last.

He crouched by Arthur's body, a lump in his throat. "Arthur?"

The blond was still out cold.

Merlin sighed. The easiest way to treat the wound was for him to know what was on the arrow. Even though it was acting as a plug to keep the blood in, Merlin knew that he had to remove the arrow. "I'm going to have to take this out. Believe me, this will hurt me just as much as it hurts you."

He gripped the shaft and pulled. After some struggle, the arrow freed himself. Blood squirted in Merlin's face, and Arthur's body tensed. Otherwise, it showed no signs of acknowledgement at what happened.

Merlin knew without looking that their horses were no longer tethered to a tree. One of the bandits had the wise idea to cut them loose, and they ran off with _all_ their supplies.

Merlin groaned. "Our horses just _had_ to run off, didn't they? And Arthur calls me the coward, I swear..." He looked at Arthur's bloody shoulder. "Well, I guess I have to clean your wound."

He removed the dented armor and pulled down the blood-soaked sleeve. It once was a flawless shade of maroon. Now it was marred by a thick, copper-tasting substance. "I cannot help you completely, but hopefully this will prevent infection from setting in. Besides, what you don't know can't hurt you, right Arthur?" He paused with his palm over the puncture. "I don't know why I even bother. It's like you _want_ to get yourself killed."

Merlin chuckled uncomfortably at the thought of using magic on _Prince Arthur._ Who would have thought? " _Þurhhæle dolgbenn_." He sighed because the spell appeared to have little effect. Of all things Merlin had to have trouble with, why healing spells? Just, why?

"Fine, just lie there then. See if I care." Merlin scowled, but his look quickly softened when he took in the vulnerable state of Arthur. He choked up. "Come on, Arthur. Please wake up."

Arthur seemed to stir, but he did not wake. Merlin wrung his hands in frustration. To distract himself, he reached for the arrow and sniffed it cautiously. His nose wrinkled. Henbane. It was a powerful herb, fatal in high dosages. Gaius used it on occasion as a sedative whenever one of his patients was in hysteria. Merlin was relieved that there did not seem to be too much on the arrow. Arthur would remain in this state for the rest of the day at most. _As_ _long as I can treat his wound properly._

A thought came to mind, causing Merlin to snort in spite of himself. "It would just be my luck if you could sense what is going on out here you know." He grinned cheekily. "Well, at least my spell stopped the bleeding. No stopping that, ehh Arthur? I guess that is good for now, but we need to get you to Gaius as soon as possible."

Merlin was no physician. True, he was considered by some to be Gaius's assistant, but he did not know much about the various herbs. All his "studies" were actually focusing on magic, not herbology.

Okay, he was semi-decent. Merlin was able to identify henbane as being the drug on the arrow. That was beside the point. If Arthur's life was left solely in his incapable hands, Arthur would die. _Funny thing is, his life is in my hands every single waking day._

"I'd prefer that you don't die on the way, you know," Merlin suggested even though Arthur could not hear him. "Your father would have my head if I left something happen to you. For all I know, I'm dead anyway." He stared at the discarded projectile. "Why'd you do it, exactly? I'm not worth anything compared to you."

Merlin raised one hand. "I'm a bastard by law; a servant! I practice _magic_ , though by gods you should not know that." He lifted the other hand like a scale balancing out in the end. " _You_ are the Crown Prince of Camelot, destined to be the greatest king Albion has ever seen. There is no need for you to sacrifice yourself for a low-life like me."

Merlin gritted his teeth. According to the Great Dragon (though his word was not entirely reliable), they were two sides of the same coin. It was probably a pathetic attempt to make Merlin look like a fool, yet he still believed that. In destiny's eyes, they were equals. Heads or tails. One will come out on top, the other on bottom, but there was always a connection that could never be severed. The chances of coming out on top were fifty-fifty, not one hundred percent, not no chance at all.

Greatest king Albion has ever seen. _Humph. More like the greatest king of the clotpoles in Dollop-headbion._

"Look at that. I'm rambling again." Merlin folded his hands and created a fire out of thin air. "And you are not even listening. If you were, I'd be a dead man."

The rest happened later that night. Merlin had chosen to stay in the same place until the next morning in hopes that the effects of henbane would wear off soon. He was avoiding carrying Arthur if he could help it. If all went well, he could get Arthur back to Camelot by noon tomorrow. But fate had other plans.

* * *

 ** _And so, the first chapter is complete. It started as an ongoing conversation on my notepad on my phone, so I have material for next chapter already. Not entirely hopeless. Real quick, please remember that Merlin is NOT a dragonlord, yet. Heck, he does not even know what they are. Morgana does hate Uther, but it is not over-the-top like towards the end of Season 2. She still cares about Merlin, Arthur, and Gwen. Especially Merlin. He has not attempted to poison her yet (but that will never happen in this fic). He just helped her find the Druids if I'm correct._**

 ** _I just wanted to clear those up right now._**

 ** _I want to say that for the record, I'm not an expert on henbane. If henbane can kill a human on contact, then whoops (though I think that it is a sedative)._**

 ** _Next chapter will be the actual kidnapping, but I just wanted Arthur to get shot this chapter. Next chapter will hopefully provide a little more explanation on who these bandits are and what they want._**

 ** _Yeah, fun stuff._**

 ** _Please consider leaving a review. They mean a lot to me, and I will give a response as soon as I can._**

 ** _~Lya200~_**


	2. They Don't Know

_**Hey guys, just wanted to say real quick how ecstatic I am from all your support. 20 followers already? It took me a year and a half to get that for The Haunted One-Shots. I can't believe how much feedback I have gotten for a brand new story. This is great, thank you for being awesome :D**_

 ** _I think that I've abandoned my resolve to keep chapters shortish compared to what I normally do. Soon, if I'm not careful, I'll near ten thousand words a chapter._**

 ** _I know the chapter title is super-creative. I think that is just how Merlin would title the chapter._**

 ** _Previously, Arthur and Merlin are hunting_** ** _when they are attacked by bandits. Arthur gets shot while knocking Merlin out of harm's way. Merlin just rambles to himself._**

-"Burial" by Rob Lane (Merlin)

-"Godric's Hollow Graveyard" by Alexandre Desplat

-"Savannah Dusk" by Ridvan Düzey

-"Sunrise on Mars" by Audionautix

 _ **I did my best to explain the bandits (with the information I wanted to be revealed, anyway). More will be explained next time. If you can't understand my reasoning, feel free to ask for clarification.**_

Let's Go On An Adventure 

* * *

They Don't Know

A chill hung in the air that night. Merlin kept the fire going, but his insides were still numb with cold. It might have been because he wrapped the prince in his own jacket. Merlin found Arthur's royal cloak in tatters and put it on just for the heck of it. Essentially, it was useless against the frigid weather. It did not do anything other than prevent the wind from hitting his body.

Merlin knew that he would be tasked with repairing the cloak when they returned to Camelot. _Arthur would not be caught dead in the thing_ (Merlin shivered at the thought). _Maybe if I use magic to repair it_ now _, then perhaps I can avoid the unpleasantries. "Redintegro Scissum Closk."_

Slowly, the threads started to re-stitch each other into a complete article of clothing. Blood and dirt faded away like it never existed. Finally, Merlin made it look like it never was damaged in the first place.

Really, the only reason why Merlin was doing this now was to distract himself. Truthfully, the warlock was getting tired. If he went to sleep, he might endanger Arthur simply by not being there to protect him. Now, if he would just wake up...

There was a crash in the woods. Merlin jumped, his body's actions slowed from grogginess.

"Arthur, was that you?" Merlin asked just to be sure (even though there could have been no other explanation other than bandits).

Arthur snored softly.

He peered through the dark and located Arthur's sword. He used magic to call it into his hands. To most, they would feel better with a weapon in hand. To Merlin, it felt less like an extension of his arm than a mop did.

Merlin shook his head in disbelief. "Again, bandits?" Merlin muttered. He scowled disdainfully at Arthur. "Arthur, this is your own fault, you know. Next time, remind me to tie you to your bedpost when you suggest we go hunting. Or knock you out. Or brainwash you into thinking that hunting is bad. Or do something."

He waved his free hand to perform a mental enchantment. Instantly, Merlin's senses were enhanced. He could see decently enough in the dark, and distance was no longer a problem. He could hear the bandit's thunderous voices as they cursed at whatever soul disturbed Merlin. The only downside was that the smell of blood now overwhelmed him. Gagging silently, Merlin listened through the trees.

A gruff voice crowed, "So, remind me again why Arnold was to shoot the _manservant_?"

There was a sound like someone was being slapped. Then a squeakier voice urged, "Dumbo, the arrow itself was not fatal. We weren't trying to kill them. Everyone knows that he follows the prince around like a lost puppy. It's obvious that he idolizes him, and that is just by what we've _heard_."

"I don't _idolize_ the prat," Merlin defended to himself. Not that he wanted them to hear him.

"Shooting the boy would distract the prince even if he hates him. Besides, even if we went for the royal scum, the peasant would have just gotten in the way, anyway."

Merlin cringed. Everyone seemed to think that all he was good for was getting into trouble. _I'll show them someday._

 _"_ I don't know why the Prince did not leave the servant to die, though. We could have tracked him easily, yes, but it's surprising, that's all. I don't get it."

He ended the spell. Judging by how clear the voices were, he had to say that they were not that far away. A ten minute's walk at most. If they did not know that Arthur and Merlin were there, he could have performed a disillusionment spell. However, it sounded like that little act of magic would not be enough to keep the bandits away. They knew that they were there. The attack had been planned from the start.

"Arthur, I could really use you by now." Merlin could not risk magic without injuring Arthur further in the process. It was one thing when it was during the day with his mind clear and his body energized. However, even though it was unknowingly, the bandits were the cause of his lack of energy. He performed spells, however mild, all day, and enhancing senses took a lot more energy than one would think.

Let's face it. Merlin was tired. Even if Arthur was not harmed by Merlin's use of magic, who's to say that not one of the bandits would escape and come griping to Uther that Merlin, Arthur's manservant, was a sorcerer?

He held the one-handed sword with both his hands before rectifying his mistake. Merlin's knees bent, and he locked his wrists. At the very least, the warlock should at least pretend to be experienced in weaponry.

Merlin nearly jumped out of his boots when they started charging at him. Secretly praying to the gods that they would not notice his in-expertise, Merlin swung Arthur's blade for his life. His muscles cramped and his bones became sore, but he kept going for as long as he could before he found a steel blade to his throat.

"So," the scoundrel hissed, "Look what we have here, boys."

Merlin recognized the voice of being one of the two conversing bandits. "Pleasure to meet you, Sir Ugly."

"Don't address me in that way, _boy_. My, my. Aren't you a lot smaller than we expected?"

Merlin knew that he was missing something. He looked at each of the bandit's faces. They were all glaring at him like Uther would at someone with magic. Merlin could not figure out what he had done wrong.

One of them forced the cloak back and examined his shoulders. They were somewhat satisfied that there was no blood or any serious injury upon him.

"We've found his _companion_ ," another one seethed. To Merlin's horror, he saw that the bandit was holding Arthur by his arms, and he winced at what the pain must have felt like for his friend. Merlin felt some disgusting relief that he was not conscious.

"Dumbo!" Sir Ugly admonished. "Can't you see that the man is bleeding from the shoulder? What, do you want him to bleed out?"

Merlin blinked in surprise at the faint level of concern in his voice and figured that their boss wanted Arthur alive so that he could kill him himself. However, he could not comprehend their level of hatred for him. There was no way that they could know about Merlin's magic, and he liked to think that he had a very likeable personality.***

"What?"

Sir Big-a-lot, as Merlin called him, dropped Arthur back down onto the forest floor like a ragdoll. He stepped forward to be face-to-face with Merlin. Then he spat, the spit plopping down into Merlin's eyelids. Merlin scrunched up his face as the saliva rolled down his cheek.

"Quiet, you! Just because you demand respect from others does not mean you deserve it."

Merlin scratched his head in confusion, and the majority of the bandits reacted abruptly. One of them wrenched Arthur's sword from Merlin's clammy hands. Another one propped Arthur up and rested his hand on the prince's wounded shoulder, removing it when his hand was stained with blood. Then, with a smooth voice, he stated emotionlessly, "He needs medical attention."

"Take him back to Evony," Sir Ugly ordered flatly. "She can patch him up and cure him of his _disease_." Two of the masked bandits carried Arthur away with a low level of gentleness.

"Disease?" Merlin spoke up, earning him a foot to the face. By the end of this, he knew that his face would be black and blue.

Sir Big nodded seriously. "Yes. The disease all _nobles_ inflict on their servants to make them loyal. Nobles like you, _Prince_ Arthur."

Merlin felt his heart stop. "Prince Arth-" he mouthed before stopping himself.

So they weren't after the prince. Well, they were, but they _weren't_. Merlin could have laughed out in relief. One of the two catches was a serving boy, the other was the prince of Camelot, and apparently none of them knew which was which.

 _They don't know._

Merlin faked a smile. It was obvious now, judging from their actions, that they did not wish the _manservant_ any more harm. And they got the two mixed up. How things were going right now, Arthur could be allowed to heal and maybe even leave if Merlin got lucky.

He could have corrected the raiders, but if this was what it took to protect Arthur, then he would do it. _Arthur could not stop me in his condition, and the only thing worth losing to these bandits is him._

With mock-arrogance for an imitation of the real Arthur, Merlin said, "Well, that is how all servants are supposed to behave."

The bandits went nuts. All their voices yelled at him for his stupidity, or his ungratefulness, or his arrogance, or his nobility, or whatever other reason they could find to complain about him. They thought that he, _Merlin_ , was the _Prince_. It seemed like luck was finally on his side. If he could get them to focus the blunt of their rage on him, then Arthur would be spared.

So Merlin took their blows like a champ, acting just like how Arthur would. Like the Royal Prat of Albion.

* * *

Arthur blinked several times after waking up to excruciating pain in his shoulder. That's right, he was shot in the shoulder with an arrow after saving Merlin. He craned his neck and discovered it to be wrapped in bandages. This puzzled him. Merlin did not bring this type of bandage with them normally. The fabric was a little rough, and Gaius used royal funds to get top-quality.

He looked down to find himself sitting on a pile of hay. Arthur realized that his wrists and ankles were bound together, but not overly tightly. He realized that he was inside a tent. _Bandits_.

Arthur winced. In his weakness, he was kidnapped and now at the mercy of strangers. _Well, at least Merlin is-_

Arthur's senses returned to him when he saw that he was not alone. Merlin was bound in iron chains on the other side of the tent, and Arthur's temper rose when he saw the bruises covering the boy's face. "Merlin!"

Merlin looked up with wide eyes. "Shh!" Merlin hushed, noticing that the prince was awake. "Not so loud!"

Arthur wiggled in an attempt to free his wrists, but the ache in his shoulders was too much for him to handle. He groaned and ignored the concerned look his servant gave him. "Sorry. What happened while I was out?"

Merlin turned his head, wincing, to look at the flap of the tent as if expecting for someone to enter. "Bandits. Apparently, there were more of them."

Arthur sighed and wished that he had been awake to defend them. "Well, it's not like you could have done anything." Arthur frowned. "Why didn't you run?"

Merlin smiled wryly, again alarming Arthur at the state of him. "And leave you? Please, your father would have had me beheaded."

Arthur, even though he believed the best of his father, supposed that Merlin was right. The King had little regard for anyone who worked for him, and if Merlin returned without Arthur, his father would have executed him out of anger.

"Do you have any idea what they want? Money, revenge, or-"

Merlin interrupted, "The Prince of Camelot."

Arthur nodded. _Of course._ "Oh. So, what do they plan to do with you?" Then Arthur added on hopefully, though he also hoped that Merlin would not see it that way, "Let you go?"

Merlin grimaced. "Yeah, about that, _Sire_ , they hate nobility. A lot. It is the defining point of their existence. They think that bootlickers are brainwashed into serving their masters, and they blame nobles."

"What does this have to do with you?" Arthur asked, lost at what the idiot possibly could have been getting at.

Merlin opened his mouth, but then a large raider entered, followed by a calculative-looking bandit.

The tall one sneered, "So he finally wakes up." He turned to his accomplice. "See, told ya he would be fine. That arrow-wound was not deep." They talked as though Merlin was not there.

The other one rolled his eyes. They were the same color of Guinevere's, and it was discomforting. "I was the one trying to reassure you, Dumbo."

"Humph." The giant looked down at Arthur blankly. "So what do we do with _you_?"

Arthur felt a vile remark surface in his throat. "Do you know who you are talking to? I'm-"

Then Merlin silenced him with a stare. "My obnoxious manservant," he said cooly and with a tone of disgust. "Sorry 'bout him, fellas. He is a disrespectful twit." He stared at Arthur pointedly.

Arthur widened his eyes and tried to argue, "But-"

"He is a simpleton." Merlin stared at Arthur as if commanding him to play along with whatever scheme he had up his sleeve. "It does not matter what you do to him. Kill him for all I care."

Arthur paled. The way how that last comment was said was so casual it nearly scared Arthur. Merlin just said that it would be okay for them to kill him. Arthur felt a little betrayed by the remark, but then he caught Merlin winking at him and did not know what to think.

Then Merlin put back on his mask of uncaring as quickly as he took it off. "When my father hears about this-"

There was a loud _thwack_. Arthur witnessed helplessly as the lanky bandit smacked Merlin, who did not flinch. "Well, it's a good thing _you_ won't be around to tell him, then." He stared at Merlin in loathing, making Arthur feel upset as no one was allowed to feel that way about him. This was _Merlin_. _How dare they?! Merlin is innocent! I'm the one they want._ Yet he could not bring himself to speak the truth. At least not while he was unsure what was going on.

As much as Arthur hated to say it, and he certainly would never say it aloud, Merlin looked like he somewhat had the situation under control. Almost.

The other one rapped his hand on a wooden table off to the side, releasing some penned up anger. "It's people like you, _your highness,_ that make the blood of hard workers like us boil. Your arrogance, your outright disregard of the ones who make the world go round, you're all the same!"

The comment stung Arthur. Was that how commoners viewed him and his father? Arthur tried to be fair to his people, especially after Merlin came into his life and he discovered his strictly-noble feelings for Guinevere. But was it enough? Was Merlin telling the truth when he called him a prat?***

The other one seethed, "And you just let him get shot. Tell me, _Prince_ Arthur, what kind of a sick bastard are you?"

To Merlin's credit, he did not even bat an eye, "The kind who will make the world a better place once I rid it from scum like you. When the King, my _father_ , hears about what happened, I assure you-"

He never finished the threat because the mousier of the two bandits spat out, "He'll do nothing but walk right into our trap. Granted, all nobility are assholes, but you _Pendragons_ are the worst. You all think you are above everyone else and murder innocents in cold blood."

Merlin glared at the bandits. "I demand that you treat me with the respect I deserve." His tone was so commanding, so _un-Merlin-like_ that Arthur felt inclined to listen. Even though he shouldn't. Merlin was the servant. He was supposed to follow orders, but he did not. _I guess that's what I like about him._

The tall villain balled up his fists. "Oh, it is high time that we treat you like how you deserve: like _dirt_."

Arthur could almost here the crack as his boot made contact with Merlin's arm. The other joined in, and soon both of them were abusing Merlin. Crunches sounded as ribs were broken. Merlin let out a few moans, and it _sickened_ Arthur. He could not hold in his objections any longer.

"Stop it," he said through clenched teeth. "I think M-" Arthur caught himself and covered it up with a cough. "I think he has had enough."

Blankly, a raider said, "Tell us, has a day ever gone by when you wished that you could do the same to him?"

The question caught Arthur off guard, and he did not know how to answer, but as long as it kept Merlin safe, he would answer as truthfully as he could. "N-no."

He _was_ being honest. Arthur might not hold back during training, or threatened Merlin with the stocks, or threatened to take him to the dungeons, but he was never serious. Arthur could never intentionally harm his servant.

The other clarified coldly, "No?"

Arthur shook his head swiftly, wondering if they would take their rage out on him now, but they didn't.

The bandit closest to the doorway glared at Merlin venomously. "Well, we can't afford to kill the brat. Not yet, anyway. Lord Brucen wants the royal scum alive."

Arthur could not stop himself. "I thought you hate nobility, or was that a lie?" He half-expected for someone to punch him like how they did with Merlin, who looked even worse than before. All Arthur wanted to do was free himself and tend to Merlin.

Then they smirked. The big one said, "He is not of noble birth, just like one of us. However, once he _does_ become king, he'll remember us."

The other one 'assured,' "You'll be thanking him for your freedom soon enough." Then he lost his smile as he faced Merlin. "Enjoy his company, while you can. It won't last for much longer." He exited the tent with a tilt of his hat and a swish of his ebony cloak.

The remaining man bowed mockingly at Merlin. "Later, _Prince_ Arthur." Then he, too, left.

Once they were gone, Arthur scolded, "Merlin, what the devil-"

Merlin snapped quietly, "Keep your voice down, you clotpole! I'm trying to protect your royal backside, as per usual!"

Arthur lowered his voice, but he still wanted answers. "Why do they think you are me?"

"Surprise?" Merlin chuckled nervously. Arthur glared at his servant. Merlin shrugged. "Orders were to shoot the manservant, apparently. That is, me. Almost none of them knew what you looked like. You ended up shot, and I was wearing your cloak for warmth. You looked like a peasant. It kind of just happened."

"And you," Arthur wanted to point at Merlin, "just let it happen?"***

Merlin nodded, a bit enthusiastically. "Yes, that is correct."

Arthur snarled, "You _idiot_! Why not tell them the truth?"

"Because they'll have you tortured as they will with me," Merlin stated calmly.

Torture. Arthur's blood ran cold. _Torture. They want to torture Merlin._ "How can you remain so calm?" Arthur cringed at the physical evidence of what had already happened.

Merlin looked at Arthur dead in the eyes. With a serious voice, he said, "Arthur, who's to say that I am calm? On the inside, I am absolutely terrified, more so than you, probably. However, I will not give them the satisfaction of knowing that."

The tent fell silent, filled only with the sound of their breaths. Arthur was disbelieving and found himself wishing that they never went hunting in the first place. Then Merlin would have not been thrown in this position.

He shifted his weight, again feeling the pain in his shoulder. The tent was only lit by a small candle on the table, thus the lighting was dim, yet he could see Merlin as clear as day. Arthur felt a wave of guilt crash over him as he viewed all the injuries on his person. _Merlin should not have lied to them._

"What was with wanting me dead?"

Merlin's cobalt eyes twinkled mischievously. "If I played the part of the inconsiderate prince, then they would not bother use you against me in any way. Like torturing you and forcing me to watch."

Arthur's stomach dropped. "I suppose you have thought about this, then?"

"I have."

"And nothing I say will make you change your mind and tell them the truth?" Arthur clarified, his breath quickening.

Merlin confirmed, "That is correct."

"Then I'll tell them myself!" He struggled against the bonds, rubbing and burning the skin against the ropes. Arthur did not care that his wrists would become raw from this. He only wanted to keep Merlin from being hurt.

Merlin shouted, "No!"

A bandit outside called out, "Quiet, you two!"

He paused in his escape attempt to allow the heartless human being ample time to enter before Arthur continued trying to fight his way free. Merlin, in a quieter tone, said, "No, Arthur. If they suspect our ruse, then they won't hesitate to hurt you."

Arthur did not stop, even when his shoulder protested in pain. "I don't _care_ , Merlin. I can deal with them. I don't need your protection." _It's my fault we're in this mess._

Merlin looked at him in hurt, and Arthur knew that he had done it, crossing the line. He stopped trying to loosen the ropes in shame. It hadn't been Arthur's intention to make Merlin feel bad, even if the skill sets were... _questionable_.

Arthur opened his mouth to- What could he possibly say?

Merlin cocked his head. Then Merlin reassured firmly, "Oh believe me Arthur, I will. I'll protect you 'till the day I die."

* * *

 ** _On one side of the coin, we have a warlock playing prince. On the other, we have the prat playing servant._**

 ** _Prince Merlin of Camelot and Just Arthur. Can someone write a FanFiction with literal role reversals, with Merlin being the magic-using Prince of Camelot, and Arthur being the servant brought up to hate magic. Or something like that?_**

 ** _So, Merlin has decided to take the lead on this one, and Arthur is not the happiest camper about that. And I need to reveal Sir Big and Sir Ugly's real names soon, because Arthur would never call anyone those names._**

Guest Numero Uno: Continued :)

Guest Numero Dos: Thank you!

 ** _Now time to thank everyone. This will be fun._**

 ** _Thank you TheDarkestDreams, Origami Pen, Red Moon Lollipop, TheTownWeirdo, Ladyliz2, Linorien, and all the guests for the reviews._**

 ** _Thank you Lycropanthy, Simplewriting, TheDarkestDreams, Tukiyo Kitsune, akira-wolfe, and xxGhostHunt255xx for favoriting._**

 ** _Thank you Candle-lit Dreams, CoolBeans100, IndigoAndTheFandoms, Ladyliz2, Linorien, Lycropanthy, Origami Pen, Percy James Frost, QwertyBobberson, Red Moon Lollipop, Sakura022496, Skypeoplephoenix732, TheDarkestDreams, Wallaruby, abyssofshame, catie . rasmussen, iceprincess2020, steellord, xXLadyLaufeyXx, and zendog for following._**

 ** _~Lya200~_**


	3. Method One

_***screams like the crazy fangirl I am* Oh my gosh! Your support is overwhelming. It's official! This is my most popular story on the site, more so than some that have been on this site for almost two years now. 67 followers and 25 favorites?! I just want to say thank you. Without you guys, this story would not have been possible.**_

 _ **Okay, chapter three. The beginning of the torture. I'm warning you, it's cringe-worthy. It might be because terrible writing, or it might be because of what goes down. Your pick. It's not M-rated graphic, but it's not sunshine and lollipops.**_

 _ **I used my brother as a torture dummy for some scenes. He inadvertently chose the method and the details that follow up. He might have some regrets, but I don't. It's all our secret pleasures to read Merlin!Whump.**_

 _ **My Camelot map mousepad finally came in! I have a "mild" obsession with maps. After looking at it, I decided on a location. The primary setting (for now at least) takes place close to the border between Mercia and Camelot (Essetir is a little overdone in my opinion).**_

-"Morgana Poisoned" by Rob Lane

-"Morgana's Hatred of Uther" by Rob Lane

-"Glamdring" by Howard Shore (Lord of the Rings)

-"Ron Leaves" by Alexandre Desplat (Harry Potter)

-"The Exodus" by Alexandre Desplat (Harry Potter)

 _ **The overly long chapters never bothered me anyway.**_

Let's Go On An Adventure

* * *

Method One

Merlin grimaced. The lighting was _awful_ , by the way. He had no way to remove his clothing, but surely by now his frail skin was already being mottled by yellowish purple bruises curtesy of Sir Big and Sir Ugly. He was itching for the moment to call them that to their face, but that would have to be when they remove him from Arthur's presence. Whatever punishment they give will really piss off the Prince.

It had been hard enough to convince Arthur to follow along with his plan. To claim that the prat was unhappy was an understatement. Merlin would not put it past him to reveal his scheme before it began. That is why Merlin put a subtle enchantment on Arthur that took the temptation of saying the truth away. It only worked while Merlin was away, but the warlock felt confident that he could sway the prince while in the same room as he.

He just wished that he could do more. There was no way the scoundrels could have known about him. However, the chains they used was lined in iron. Most likely, the metal was there to keep from snapping at a random point. None of them seemed smart enough to realize what they also did.

Uther used iron in his dungeons to suppress sorcerers' powers. Strictly speaking, Merlin shouldn't have been able to cast spells at all. His head still hurt from the first time he tried to break the chains. However, Merlin discovered that his immense power allowed room for him to use simpler spells. Like making Arthur forget to mention how Merlin was the servant and he he prince.

Said clotpole was currently asleep. Again. Merlin had nothing to do with it; apparently knocking people out was too much for him under the iron's influence. No, he was just resting. After all, there wasn't much that he could do other than talk, and he was too frustrated with Merlin to do it. All the better, as Sir Big and Sir Ugly were entering the tent, cracking their knuckles sinisterly.

"'Bout time you fools showed up. Your food service here is flat out terrible. I want to issue a complaint to the management."

That was a little much. Merlin knew it, and they did too. The brutish bandit took the opportunity to punch Merlin in the gut. The warlock grunted, getting the idea that things were only going to go downhill from there.

"Okay, so no breakfast then. Probably for the best, as I'm sure that it would taste revolting anyway."

Sir Ugly hissed, "I don't know how it is at the palace, but you ain't there, chap, so can it. You don't make the orders around here; we do. So stop your chattering, pretty boy."

Merlin almost laughed at that one. _They really have no clue, do they?_ Contrary to what everyone else seemed to think, Merlin was actually very good at lying and keeping secrets. If they knew just who he really was, they would never call him that. They would be too scared to. Even if they only knew of his identity as Arthur's manservant and not of his magic, they would not call him "pretty boy." Merlin loved the irony.

"You don't get to tell me what to do, _sir_." This was not even a part of his act. Half the time, he did not even listen to Arthur. Nor did he listen to the king (technically speaking, as he broke he law every day just by existing), Gaius, or the Great Dragon. It drove them all crazy. The only person he obeyed most of the time was his mother, but she's his _mother_.

They said nothing. One of them retrieved a set of iron handcuffs and linked them around his bony wrists. His hands were forced behind him, but he could not have done anything with his bonds. Once they were satisfied that Merlin could not possibly get away, they unchained him from the pole.

"Take one last look, boy. This is the last time you'll see this tent. You're getting a new home." They pulled the warlock to his feet. One of them took him roughly by the shoulder, grinning in malice. "Don't worry, we'll bring your _servant_ by later." This was probably the first time Merlin has heard a bandit refer to Arthur in a tone other than contempt.

Merlin looked at Arthur helplessly. He thanked the gods for the foresight that made him enchant Arthur. Undoubtedly, Arthur would have probably lost reason if he saw that Merlin was nowhere to be found.

Merlin grimaced. He wasn't going to regret his decision to play the prince. It did not matter what they did to him just as long as Arthur stayed alive. They will see to it that his shoulder wound was treated. Even if they did not have Gaius, these bandits were unfazed by Arthur. It was almost funny.

 _Oh, if they only knew the truth._ There was no recognizing Arthur. His once-state-of-the-art clothes was in ruins, making him look like a peasant. Merlin took care of his teeth, so there was no differentiating between the two in that regard. All Merlin had to say was that he took after his "father," and the idiots would swallow it whole.

Merlin nodded at Arthur even though the prince could not see him. The bandits took no notice of what Merlin mumbled. "Cheers."

* * *

He was blindfolded and gagged. Constantly, they purposely made him stagger. The cloth was only removed when he was forced into the dingy room. The walls were a slate-grey, marred by shadows and cracks. If he looked more closely, Merlin might find bloodstains. Along the wall was a stone table laden with tools. Merlin stared at the instruments of torture.

He was thrown to the ground in a heap. Sir Big kicked him against the brick. Then he wrenched a loaf of stale bread from his pocket and tossed it at the manservant-in-disguise, and it landed just within reach of his teeth. "Eat before we get started."

Merlin took a bite. It wasn't that different than from what he was used to, as the only time he got something edible was when he nicked from Arthur or Gaius brought him something from a feast. He obviously could not admit that, so, feigning disgust, he complained, "Ugh! What is this rubbish?! It's not fit to serve to _anyone_."***

Merlin hoped that they wouldn't take that as an excuse to rob him of his food. As much as he needed to play the part of the royal clotpole of Camelot, he still needed to eat.

"If you don't want it, then I suppose we could let you starve, you ungrateful _pig_."

Merlin shook his head and took another bite out of the dry bread. The loaf tasted like sawdust, and quite possibly, it was made from the stuff. Was that mold he tasted? "No, I'll eat this sludge... Unless if you want to bring something more edible over."

They shook their heads in disgust. "You nobles are never happy with what you get. We could bring out a fancy four-course feast, and you would still find something to gripe about."

 _Trust me, I live with that each day._ "Anything would be better than this filth. Do you peasants eat like this every waking day?"

Thus Merlin lost his eating privileges of the morning. Sir Ugly ripped the bread from Merlin's mouth and tossed it away, covering the bread in dust as it bounced against the ground. Now only the rats would be allowed to feast on the roll. Merlin would come to regret opening his mouth later, but since he had nothing more to lose that they knew of, he decided to let another insult fly out of his mouth.

"I have names for you both. Would you like to here them? I give all my servants names of the same caliber." Before they could object, Merlin continued straight-faced even though he was secretly enjoying this, "You, the large one, are Sir Big-a-lot, Sir Big for short, and your pal is Sir Ugly. You know, because his nose is a little off-center." _Consider this payback for taking my food from me before I was done eating._

"Why don't we just start the process now, then, _Your Highness_?" Sir Ugly sneered, flushing a little regardless of his tough shell. After all, pride was almost every man's weakness. He turned to the table of contraptions thoughtfully. Sir Ugly picked up a wicked little knife that was rusting along the sharp edge and stroked it tantalizingly.

Sir Big shook his head. "No, Grima. Not the knife yet. I kind of want to use this." He, too, went up to the table and picked up a length of worn rope.

Merlin, who did not fancy neither being strangled nor being sliced to slivers, rose his voice. "What do you want, anyway? This whole thing seems rather pointless. What would torturing me do?"

They shared a look and laughed, bursting Merlin's eardrums. Sir Big, who all but ignored Merlin's choice of nicknames, answered with a leer, "It's one of the only things you royal folk seem to comprehend: control. You're ours now until the king decides to send someone after you...if he does. Some of you are never claimed, so we dispose of you accordingly. While we wait, we choose to mark you as we see fit. When the time comes, and Lord Brucen claims Camelot and all the other pitiful kingdoms, you royal heirs will not be able to," he poked Merlin's nose, "do anything about it."

"You'll be too psychologically scarred," Sir Ugly elaborated. "Maybe, if He's merciful enough, he'd let you scum live. He plans to start with Camelot because you Pendragons. If he can take down the mighty Camelot, the other, weaker kingdoms will realize how little chance they stand, and they'll fall apart without interference from us."

Merlin doubted that the bandits could possibly succeed. The guards, while idiots and half the time incompetent, still had might. The knights were strong and could surely handle a few bandits. "I wish you luck, then. You're clearly underestimating us. Even without me, Camelot could hold her own."

They smirked. "We'll see if you'll change your tune once we extract all her secrets from yer big mouth." Merlin's smile faded. "As prince, you surely hold all the secrets to Camelot in those precious lips of yours. We just need to find your secret."***

 _My secret._ Undoubtedly, they were speaking of his weakness. Right now, they thought that it would be arrogance and pride. Once they find his greatest fear and exploit it, however, it would be harder to withstand what they threw at him. Merlin's greatest weakness, known by all those who really knew him, was Arthur and all his other loved ones. Since the bandits were under the impression that he despised Arthur, or at least felt nothing towards him, they will probably stand a bigger chance at finding his second largest weakness. This one was less obvious. Not even Gaius knew what it was. Merlin never told anyone.

Merlin knew something of the inner-workings of Camelot. He did not doubt his ability to keep his mouth shut, but that was only for as long as they don't discover his magic. There were plenty of ways to torture sorcerers that did not normally harm non-magic people. The only other way he would betray Camelot was if they tried to use Arthur against him.

He face-planted into the floor. Sir Ugly rolled him onto his right side roughly. Merlin's legs were crookedly bent. The bruises over his body began to sting again. Merlin felt someone pull his bound arms away from his back so that his right arm was against the cold floor of the cell.

"A little birdy told me that you're better with your right arm, as are all nobles whether they want it or not, yes?"

 _Technically speaking, I am ambidextrous._ It was no secret that all noble children were trained to use their right arm for things. Merlin also wanted to have the advantage of having at least one properly functioning limb. "Duh. Why would I ever use my left arm for anything other than pairing it with my right?"

Sir Big stomped over while holding something behind his back. "Better get used to being a lefty, then, _Sire_." He revealed the object. It was a hammer like what Gwen's father used to use before he died to shape metal. However, Merlin did not think that they were going to be forging swords or armor.

Sir Ugly took Merlin's right arm and raised it slightly off the floor, examining it. "Perfectly healthy condition. Shame you don't have any real injuries to speak of. We always like to start with those. However, we still make suitable progress with the writing hand."

Merlin winced as Sir Big crouched down beside him, hammer raised. "Your arm ain't very muscley for a prince. Oh well, that means more bone to break. Let's start with the pinky."

He swung the tool. In a whip of motion, the head collided with Merlin's little finger, crushing the fragile bone. Merlin gasped out as he heard the pitiful bones crunch. The pain from the beatings he received last night was _nothing_ compared to this. The jolt of agonizing pain was simultaneous with the sound that bust his eardrums and resounded through the room.

His finger went stiff as Merlin started to cope with it. _It's just a broken finger. These happen all the time to people. It can heal after a few short weeks_. That is, it takes four to six weeks with the proper treatment. That was a luxury that Merlin had to live with once before when he lived in Ealdor, and now he had to live with it until he and Arthur could escape.

There was another swing of the hammer. The tool acted like an axe ready to carry out an execution. It landed on Merlin's right ring finger. He moaned softly, slowly realizing that they intended to break _all_ his fingers. Now both of his fractured fingers were throbbing, the pumping of the blood flow distracting Merlin from his surroundings.

There was another snap as his middle finger fell victim to the merciless villain. It was near impossible for Merlin to handle anything with his right hand should he get it free. He could deal with one broken finger, he could deal with two. Merlin could not deal with three.

And he certainly could not deal with four. The hammer fell down skillfully onto his index finger, shattering the bone underneath the cartilage and skin. Sir Big was careful to hit the middle phalanges of each finger to cause the most effect.

Merlin tried to ignore the torment in his hand. It was not working. Four fingers were fractured, swelling up and touching all the other tender appendages. The mere contact would send Merlin into more fits of pain. But none of this could brace him for what was to come next.

"We'll leave your thumb be for now," Sir Big teased with an ill-intended smile. "We are going to move on to something a little more fun."

He displayed the hammer. The steel hammerhead was soaked in crimson, probably due to the relentless breaking of Merlin's fingers. Merlin wanted to look away, but his neck would not crane properly. He squeezed his eyes shut so that he did not have to see the torture device.

Someone slid up his sleeve. Merlin registered a faint coolness. Then that momentary feeling was replaced with agonizing distress. It felt as though his entire right arm was on fire. This _crack_ was deafening, and the pain was blinding. The fire that had already crawled from his fingertips increased tenfold.

Merlin moaned. His gut wrenched. One would think that after two-and-a-half years of serving Prince Arthur, Merlin would be used to pain. However, he never much liked broken bones. They made him feel helpless. Whether it be he could not walk or could not write, Merlin relied on these everyday actions to get by. When he was younger, he subconsciously forced his bones to heal faster than normal. Although, when he thought about it, it was usually only a finger. The worst broken bone was his ankle, which he broke from falling out of a tree when he was seven. Even that healed after a month.

This was far worse. His arm was unbearably screaming in protest at the torture, asking for some mercy.

Mercy was not a gift to be given.

Sir Big stamped down on the ruined arm. Merlin cried out in agony, his lips forming screams only able to be heard by the three in the room. " _AGH GAH!_ "

Sir Ugly cooed in fake-sympathy, "Is the little princeling having fun yet?" He forcibly dropped the broken limb. It succumbed to gravity, and Merlin groaned.

" _Agh!_ " Merlin's eyes started to water from the pain. Tears streamed down his colorless cheeks, but he hoped that no one would notice. The hurt had started to lessen like with any other broken bone, but dropping the arm and its slamming into the floor awoke the ache.

If Arthur were to see him, he would probably call Merlin a girl. After the interaction with the Questing Beast, his arm was in a sling for almost two months, yet he still insisted on being treated like all the rest of the knights and trained with them just the same. And here was Merlin, sobbing like a little girl over his broken arm.

Yet it was so excruciating. Merlin found it hard to focus on anything else other than the curse befallen of his arm. He gritted his teeth tightly until they became numb. If he could just apply pressure to the arm, things might look up. However, just as long as he was in the bandits' presence, he was at their mercy.

At least there was one comfort in all of this. Arthur wasn't the one being tortured; _he_ was. Even though it was the Great Dragon hundreds of feet below the castle only cared for himself and the supposed destiny Arthur and Merlin shared who told Merlin to protect the prince, Merlin still did it. The Druids too believed in his destiny, as did his mother and mentor. Even Nimueh seemed to acknowledge it. Merlin would have been a fool to ignore the destiny.

 _Besides_ , he reminded himself, _I would do this for any of my friends_. The reason he gave Arthur for not running away was so far from truth. Yes, Uther would have probably had Merlin executed out of blind rage, but Merlin was not afraid of death. Even if the two never admitted it, Merlin considered the prat his friend. That was the reason Merlin stayed. It was not out of destiny. It was not out of fear of death. It was because Arthur was his friend, and that was worth any risk. That was even the reason why Merlin was staying quiet about his magic.

Merlin took a deep breath, his throat locking up. _Just be brave. You're doing this for Arthur._ "I could do this all day."

Sir Ugly regarded him strangely. "As much as we would like to continue..."

"We have orders to only keep the inflections to a minimum," Sir Big finished glumly.

Sir Big pulled Merlin to his feet. Merlin cried out as his arm was almost yanked out of its socket, adding to the harrowing strain it was already suffering. It pumped on and on, the inflicted torture intensifying. Merlin was close to screaming, but the cry died in his parched throat. With breakfast, they did not serve water. The last time he had a drink was before the kidnapping over twelve hours ago.

"Water?" Merlin found himself croaking. _Great, now you've done it._ The faces of the villains said it all.

"Feeling free to ask more of us, are ye?" Sir Big crooned.

"But of course," Sir Big droned sinisterly. "What would we not do for our prince?"

* * *

Arthur awoke with a start to sunshine. _Please tell me it was all a dream, and that Merlin is fine, and that I am fine, and that I never went on that hunting trip in the first place._ He opened his ocean blue eyes to find the insides of the tent he was being held captive in. _Nope, definitely not a dream._

Something was not right in the air. The way how Arthur woke up was almost unnatural. There was a weird sense in his gut, yet he could not determine the cause. _Merlin_.***

Arthur found himself looking at the wooden post by the door. The iron chains were lying empty on the floor. Merlin was nowhere in sight. The prince's heart skipped a beat. His eyes darted to each of the corners of the tent, but there was no sign of the bubbly manservant.

There was, however, someone sitting on a stool by the wide-open doorway. A girl around Arthur's age. She sat with her ankles crossed and her hands folded, almost with a ladylike posture. However, she was no lady. She, too, was a bandit, and in a way, she was responsible for whatever harm has befallen Merlin.

"Where is he?" Arthur interrogated.

Startled, she looked at him with vibrant green eyes that he could have sworn he has seen before. Then she relaxed. "Oh, you're awake." She exhaled with an impatient flair. "Finally."

Arthur, whether it be from how it wasn't his manservant waking up this morning or the lack all together of said manservant, was feeling very irritated. It did not take a genius to figure out that it was near impossible to deal with an upset prince of Camelot. "Where is he?" Arthur repeated, his voice raising like in the tone he used to reprimand his knights: firm but patient.

"Nowhere of consequence." The woman shifted her red cloak. "Of no consequence to you, anyway. Bread?"

She slid up the scarlet cloth. If Arthur didn't know better, he'd say that the cape had once belonged to a knight. However, the stitching of the Pendragon crest was missing, and there was a hood. In actuality, it was more like one of the cloaks Morgana wore, only it went down to just the knees.

Underneath the cape was a loaf of bread, the warmth preserved by her body heat. She tossed it at the bound prince. Thankfully for him, his hands were in front of him, not chained behind him like Merlin's hands were. He caught it despite the disadvantage, wincing as his shoulder tingled. Whatever Merlin did prior to their capture helped, but it still hurt at excursion. The blonde caught notice of this and reached for the belt tightening her tunic.

"I figured that your injury would still be painful. Here." She pulled out a bottle of an herbal concoction. "It's made from rosemary and saffron. And water." She helped pour the medicinal concoction down his throat.

The herb names meant nothing to Arthur. More unsettling was the fact that she was helping him even though she did not even know him. She did not even know his name. Besides, she was part of the reason why Merlin was not in here.

Arthur stuttered, "I want to see M-my fr-companion." The words felt weird rolling off his tongue, almost as weird as if he chose to call Merlin a friend. His brain could not make up its mind on what to say. There was a temptation to say the truth right now, but something otherworldly was stopping the prince from blabbing and ruining Merlin's whole operation.

"Later," she said. "My name is... Evony. What is yours?" Arthur chose not to reply. Slightly disappointed, Evony continued, "It's all right to be nervous. Just relax, you're among friends now."

Arthur felt sick to his stomach. She was only pretending to be nice, then. Last night, the brutish vandal and his mousier accomplice talked of "healing" him from whatever disease Merlin so-called "had him under." This was probably their method of turning servants against their masters. It would work on the weak-minded servants, but probably not on the stronger-willed ones like Merlin.

And it certainly would not work on him, for Arthur was no servant. He was the prince, and his will was far stronger than almost anyone else's. Besides, what kind of ungrateful bastard would he be if he were to turn on Merlin, a man who has saved his life or dignity more times than most of the knights could claim?

"Eat your bread, please," came the smooth-talking voice of the woman Arthur was training himself to hate. She wouldn't be this nice if she knew who he was. In their eyes, he was a monster.

He stared at the bread, disgusted. The outside, while warm, was hard. Arthur ripped a chunk off to find the inside to be a light brownish color, speckled in darker shades of the color. He sniffed it. There was no clear aroma.

"Say, you wouldn't happen to have any butter by any chance?" Arthur asked.

Evony cocked her thick eyebrows. "Butter? Why, can your family afford it?"

Arthur realized his mistake. He was so used to the delicacy of butter that he did not consider how many other families were just as fortunate as his was, and how many were not. He spun a lie. "I grew up as a farmer. Sometimes, when the season's good, we would have enough milk and cream to make our own butter."***

Evony accepted the answer. _Thank the gods that she is not the suspicious type._ "Sorry, we don't have any. Just pinch your nose and eat it. I forgot that most of the bread Camelot's servants eat are made of white grains."

Arthur had no choice but to agree with her. He was going to have to watch his mouth...

Except maybe it would be better for him to tell her the truth. Her hesitance to tell him where Merlin was made him all the more determined to find and protect him. That was what a good king was supposed to do, protect their subjects. Yes, Merlin was technically born and raised in a small farming village on the border between Essetir and Camelot, but he was still a future subject. And Arthur was fond of the serving boy, no matter how big of an idiot he might be.

He opened his mouth, but again, something seemed to block the words from coming out. Evony saw his odd behavior. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, no, it's all right." Arthur lifted the bread to his mouth. It was a strange sight, as both of his hands were tied together, making it very hard to do anything. To the best of his ability, he pinched his nostrils shut and forced to shove the stale bread down his throat. Of course, what happened was that Arthur ended up making more of a show of rubbing his chewed up bread back in his face. He was glad that he was protecting his nose, though it might have not been as big of a problem if he used both hands for eating.

The result was a mess of bread crumbs all over his, or rather, Merlin's jacket. He had no recollection of Merlin fitting the jacket on him. It must have happened while he was out cold. It might have even happened when Merlin first decided to switch roles with the prince.

"Next time," Arthur announced, revolted at what he had to do, "can I just eat with both my hands free?" He asked it merely to spite the overly kind she-bandit. He did not consider that she would answer him.

"Yes. Actually, we are making some changes in accommodations." Evony stood up, her cloak billowing in the direction of the open tent flap. "We're going to get you some water, and then we're moving you and the...err, _prince_ someplace closer to where he's...been taken. Mere protocol, nothing more. Once there, I think that we can afford for you to have more freedoms...unless if you want to stay somewhere away from him. That would be completely acceptable. No one would-"

"No!" Arthur said firmly and with a twinge of surprise. "I'm fine with staying with him." _Someone will have to attempt to talk some sense into the fool before he tries anything else stupid._

Arthur might have been imagining it, but he thought that he saw the hints of a smile on her squarish face.

* * *

 _ **There you have it. Almost 5,000 words of awesomeness *squeals* Well, awesomeness to us. Probably not to Arthur and Merlin.**_

 _ **I'm going to limit myself to three OCs who actually serve real purpose, as I don't normally like to use them. Sometimes, however, they are necessary. And Sir Big and Sir Ugly have real names, though Merlin won't be learning them anytime soon. As for Evony, I think I stole her name from this online game my mom used to play. Fun fact, her character was originally just a nurse, then my brain gave her a name, and all hell broke loose.**_

 _ **AND WHO ELSE WILL BE STALKING BOOKSTORES ON THE 31ST?!**_

 _ **Next chapter will almost purely be bromance. I don't want to throw all the torture in the same set of chapters. Rather, I want to spread it out.**_

 _ **What do you think Merlin's biggest fear is in this story? I personally think that it is obvious, and you should too. Unless if I'm just overthinking things. As usual.**_

 _ **How do you like my take on their take of food. They both got a similar loaf of bread (though Merlin's is older).**_

 _ **Thank you 01beirke, 7happybears, AnimeLover2117, Bats4Books, Bluebox345, Candle-lit Dreams, Chatterbox818, CoolBeans100, Fletty, Gabriel's Wings - Love Squares, HonourProject, IndigoAndTheFandoms, Kaseyboy, Ladyliz2, Linorien, Lycropanthy, MandaScooby, Meganekko83, Megwar, MetaBlade, Origami Pen, Percy James Frost, Pheobe Arocis, Pielover515, Pilyarquitect, Professor Cuddles, QwertyBobberson, RangerHorseTug, RarissimaAvis, Red Moon Lollipop, Renchikara, Sakura022496, ScruffydaDruid, ShadowDragon1553, Skyleighdragon, Skypeoplephoenix732, Snoopy8907, SoaringEagle01, StephanieStephanie, SummerElfOwl, Thats lemos, TheChosenJedi142, TheDarkestDreams, The anomalous, Tony WildRiver, Wallaruby, XphiaDP, abyssofshame, catie . rasmussen, dandelionseeds, estallias, iceprincess2020, justalittleawesome, kaytriactr, kittycat1810, mersan123, morbidbookworm, moroflake, oliviilskov, sarajm, skydoe16, sparrowsmelody, staymagical, steellord, suprNEONligt, xXLadyLaufeyXx, and zendog for following.**_

 _ **Thank you Bookgirl121, Hoppy854, Lycropanthy, Meganekko83, NicoleMcGrath, Percy James Frost, Professor Cuddles, RainbowAnimation, RangerHorseTug, ScruffydaDruid, ShadowDragon1553, Simplewriting, Skyleighdragon, StephanieStephanie, TheChosenJedi142, TheDarkestDreams, XphiaDP, akira-wolfe, estallias, justalittleawesome, kittycat1810, morbidbookworm, skydoe16, suprNEONligt, and xxGhostHunt255xx for favoriting.**_

 _ **Thank you XphiaDP, skydoe16, Chatterbox818, MandaScooby, dandelionseeds, TheDarkestDreams, Lycropanthy, Linorien, Ladyliz2, Percy James Frost, Origami Pen, Red Moon Lollipop, TheTownWeirdo, and both of my guests for reviewing the story.**_

 _ **Woo, typing workout. Next time I'm copy-and-pasting the original file and update. I hope I did not miss anybody.**_

 _ **Thanks again!**_

 _ **~Lya200~**_


	4. No Regrets

_**Huzzah, I'm back! Okay, I honestly meant to finish this after I got back from vacation. Then things got a little crazy (family medical crisis, no biggie), but school's starting back up, and I have my school laptop to work with instead of the stupid Toshiba that belongs to my brother. Shame that they are giving us Dell Chromebooks this year, but oh well. At least the zombie virus does not live on this.**_

 _ **And I still don't know why I insist on reading FanFictions that were completed years ago. More specifically, before the finale. There was one I read the other day that referenced the Legends of King Arthur. As in, they mentioned Arthur's rising from Avalon after his death. This was written a month before the series finale.**_

 _ **Now, I know that I promised bromance. That starts up on the SECOND half of this. Unfortunately, I had to do a little background information. Sorry not sorry. Hey, you get plenty of guilty Arthur, which is almost as good, right?**_

 _ **And this story continues to grow. And nobody, in all of Oz, no wizard that is or was, is ever going to BRING MEEEEEEEEE DOWWWNN!**_

 ** _Who has read The Cursed Child? I know that some fans were unhappy with it, but I for one loved it. It's like reading FanFiction. Scorpius Malfoy is my new favorite character. His friendship with Albus kind of makes me think of the one between Merlin and Arthur. I actually went through and assigned each member of the cast a Merlin character. It worked so well. Scorpius's mother even had trouble conceiving. It was PERFECT! Only no Neville Longbottom for whatever reason *cries*._**

-"Gaius Arraigned" by Rob Lane (Merlin)

-"Freya" by Rob Lane (Merlin)

-"Forward to Time Past" by John Williams (Harry Potter ;P)

-"Gwen and Arthur" by Rob Lane (Merlin)

-"The Friends" by Nicholas Hooper (Harry Potter)

-"Farewell to Gwen" by Rob Lane (Merlin)

 ** _Yep, just Harry Potter and Merlin today_**

Let's Go On An Adventure

* * *

No Regrets

The first thing Evony did to Arthur was remove the rope binding his wrists. The skin was raw from the other night when he tried to break free. Arthur gritted his teeth when Evony slathered the wrists with ointment and wrapped them in white cloth. He had no trust for her. After all, her kindness was but a façade. If she cared, then he and Merlin would not be in this mess.

All the while, Arthur contemplated the antics of his manservant. His absence did not bode well with the prince. More likely than not, he was taken by the pillagers who first kidnapped them for torture. Merlin was not the one who was supposed to be keeping him out of harm; Arthur was. _By gods I've failed._

And so, it was a thoughtful and guilt-ridden Arthur who was led from the tents. It was mid-day. To Arthur's surprise, they were inside a village, or at least the remnants of one. Some of the buildings were all but abandoned, coated in years' worth of grime. It seemed that the inhabitants preferred living in a tent.

The majority of the people here were men. They were lanky and muscular with powerful biceps and weapons hanging exposed from their sides. Scars disfigured their faces and other bare parts of the body. Aside from them, there was a small number of women. The way they dressed and carried themselves was so unladylike that it would make all the ladies of the court want to gag (well, perhaps not Morgana). If their hair was not in a pageboy's bob like Evony, then it was up in a ponytail or a braid. Like the men, the females dressed in tunics and trousers.

Children were scarce. In most of the villages Arthur has been in, children chased each other while playing jolly games. In this place, however, he only saw a young pair, probably brother and sister, staring at him with hollow blue eyes and gaunt faces. Arthur shivered, wondering what a pair of children was doing in the company of bandits. Even he could find no reason to blame the set of mini urchins for the circumstances he and Merlin were forced into.

With the exception of the two blue-eyed children, few paid him any attention. They carried on with their daily routine, whether it be carrying water from the well to whoever needed it or it be patrolling the cracked cobblestone streets for rival bandit-gangs. Arthur eyed the latter group closely, looking for the pair of bandits responsible for taking Merlin. No, neither of them were outside, as he had expected.***

Evony guided him to the pump. There was a steady drip of leaking water from the faucet, forming a ocean of a puddle on the ground, even though by all sense, the size should not have been possible from such a little amount. A stack of pewter goblets (all covered in varying levels of dust) and wooden buckets were resting on a wooden table likely salvaged from one of the deserted homes.

Evony took one of the cleaner-looking cups and pulled the pump. After a sputter, lukewarm water trickled into the glass. Arthur felt his mouth water. After all, it's probably been at least twenty-four hours since he has had a proper drink. When the cup was a quarter-full, he felt his fingers tingle in longing, wanting desperately for that drink. Evony did not acknowledge this and continued to fill the cup. When it was half-full, Arthur felt dizzy watching the liquid fall into the mug.

Arthur lost his self-restraint once it was two-thirds the way done. He snatched it from under the pump and drained most of the water in one gulp. Despite its warmness and the thin layer of mud, it seemed cool on Arthur's parched tongue and ragged throat. Evony's scolds of protest were lost on the blond prince. He forgot his woes and his guilts, desiring only for the dehydration to cease.

Arthur thought about the last time he had been without water. It was a little over a year ago, the unicorn incident. He closed his eyes, remembering the famine and drought he and he alone brought upon Camelot. The people of the court drank from stagnant wash-tubs and he himself ate a feeble stew made from rat. However, once he let the 'thief' go, water replaced the piles of sand in the wells. He and Merlin shared a pitcher of water with the intent of rehydrating their bodies and returning the needed strength for the next trial. Not that everything went as planned, but, in the end, Arthur proved to Anhora that he was pure of heart by drinking the poison instead of Merlin.

Just like that, Arthur's inner peace was ended. This time around, he couldn't do anything to stop Merlin from suffering. A talk to his father was useless, and his father's word meant nothing here, anyway. Try as he might, Arthur couldn't find the words to tell his foes the truth that would certainly free Merlin from his torment. There were no fathers to disobey, no potions to drink, and no flowers to pick. This time around, Arthur felt powerless to help his manservant.

"Forgive me," he said stiffly, wiping his chin and trying to hide his conflicted mind.

The female bandit took the cup from his hand and placed it into a tub. "It's quite fine. You were thirsty. However, I was trying to rinse the cup before use that way the taste of dirt was less noticeable."

Arthur couldn't bring himself to miss the taste of fresh, clean water. He just about lost his thirst. The thought of Merlin being tortured _alone_ was enough to make any man lose their appetite. _Yes, keep telling yourself that._

"It's fine," he assured with a false smile. "It was well worth the taste in order to actually be able to drink something."

"If you're sure," Evony answered doubtfully. "Onward for our final destination."

From the satchel she wore over her shoulder, Evony extracted a piece of red cloth. He swallowed a lump down his throat. It looked a lot like the stupid neckerchiefs Merlin wore. Arthur knew that it couldn't have been, though. Most likely, the silly garment was lying abandoned on the forest floor, trampled by wild beasts until it was buried inches into the ground.

"What's that for?" Arthur asked even though he already knew the answer.

"Insurance." Right. They didn't want him to know his way to wherever it was they were going. It would make any escape attempts impossible.

Evony looked at him expectantly, running her hand through the scarlet cloth and waiting for permission. _How would Merlin act?_

To be honest, he would ask questions and complain about being blindfolded. Merlin always seemed to find a way to make things difficult on everyone. But, contrary to what everyone thought at the moment, Arthur was not Merlin, and Merlin was not Arthur. "Do it," he said forcefully. He wasn't going to make things worse. For now, he'll act compliant until he can strike.

* * *

Based on the twists and turns and the shifts in the ground, Arthur guessed that he ended up descending several flights of stairs and was probably in the midst of a labyrinth. Even though Arthur will not admit it, he grudgingly allowed the woman to steer him down the path. His eyes were closed off from the world, so the only sense Arthur relied on right now was his hearing.

And he regretted it. As they turned each corner, he would hear the echo of a scream. Some were high-pitched, some were low. At least half of them came out as raspy gasps while the rest were submissive moans. Arthur could not help but think, _Do any of these belong to Merlin?_

He did not want to think about the pain Merlin surely must have been feeling. _Gods, what has he done to deserve this?_ Then he answered himself. _Nothing. He's done nothing except be an idiot._ Arthur was more than willing to take Merlin's place, as things should have been.

 _But if things were as they should have been, then_ Merlin _would have been the one shot with the arrow._ Arthur did not know how Merlin's body would have been able to deal with an injury of that extent, but things were far worse now as consequence, getting out of control. Arthur typically did not get worried, so what was that feeling in the back of his mind?

Guilt. As the screeches of pain traveled the halls, Arthur was reminded of what happened. The subtle ache in his shoulder was nothing. He could scarcely imagine what the unfortunate souls were going through to force them to shriek as they did.

One gasp of pain stood out, nearly forcing Arthur to stop in his tracks. It _couldn't_ have been Merlin. _But Gods, it's so close!_ Arthur's heart pounded out of his chest at the thought, knowing that Merlin was somewhere in these walls being tortured by bandits for information he would not nor could not give.

Again, it should have been Arthur in there. What could possibly make Merlin think that this was a good idea? Arthur was trained to have a high tolerance of pain, both physical and emotional. Merlin deserved to be the one being brought to a prison cell where he'd be _safe,_ fully fed and hydrated. Arthur hated this situation. _Where was the idiot?_

 _"Arthur, you are my only son and heir. I can't risk losing you for the sake of some serving boy."_

 _"Because his life's worthless?"_

 _"No, because it's worth_ less _than yours."_

Eerily, Arthur knew that this conversation would have taken place if his father knew about the situation. Uther simply did not care. In fact, he would have applauded Merlin for taking Arthur's place. More screams.

Arthur disagreed with his father. Merlin was a person, even though the king was loathe to see or acknowledge it. This should have never happened to begin with.

His legs stopped moving. Evony released him from her grasp. With tender care, she untied the blindfold from Arthur's eyes. The blond was met with a sudden brightness, but it rapidly dulled as the only light came from a torch, providing a flickering orange light outside the metal door. A lone dark-skinned guard already stood in position, staring ahead and clutching a sharpened spear. Arthur grudgingly admitted to himself that he could give the Camelotian guards a run for their money.

He peered through the iron bars coated in rust. There was a pallet of hay on one side of the cell. On the other, there was a simple bed with a pathetic mattress and a pillowcase stuffed with hay. There was also a blanket that was probably nibbled on by rats. No, not probably, _was_ eaten by rats. Arthur could have sworn that he saw the tail of one of the foul creatures disappear in a hole in the wall.

Evony took a key from the folds of her cloak, and, with a steady hand, she unlocked the cell door. It opened with a creak. Then she turned to Arthur, her eyes filled with uncertainty. "Look, the offer still stands. We can surely find some better accommodations for you if you only ask."

Arthur cringed at the dingy dungeon, yet his mind did not change. "Can't we both just stay somewhere more comfortable?"

Evony smiled dryly. "'Fraid we can't do that. We can't afford for _His Majesty_ to pass out between dungeons. We're closer here than with the tent, so he won't have to travel as much, and there will be less strain on his body. Now, let me take a look at your shoulder." She guided him into the cell and to the makeshift bed. The door shut behind them.

Arthur did not trust Evony with his wound. He couldn't. However nice she might seem, she was still the enemy. She was still responsible for Merlin. "I'd rather not."

She gave him an indignant look. "What am I going to do, guarantee it will become infected? Come on, you can't help anyone if you don't help yourself."

She was right. In a few short hours, Merlin will be led inside. Arthur could not anticipate what condition he would be in, but he was likely going to need some help. He sighed and attempted to remove Merlin's jacket. However, as it was a few sizes too small and Arthur had to do it one-handed, the feat proved difficult. Smiling curtly, Evony decided to help him with his struggle. She gently tugged at the sleeve of his right arm until it was freed and did the same with the left. If the bandit was suspicious of Arthur's brawny build, she did not voice her questions.

Evony pulled down the top of Arthur's tunic, respecting his privacy but still giving her access to the shoulder. It was already wrapped in cloth bandages, yet they were stained red with blood.

"I noticed yesterday when I checked your wound, but that bandaging is impressive. How did this happen, if I may ask?"

Arthur was glad that Merlin was Gaius's ward, because he had no doubt in his mind that it was him. _At least the idiot can do one thing right._ "Camelot has one of the finest physicians in the Five Kingdoms. You pick things up."

She raised her eyebrow. "There's no way you could have done this." She paused as Arthur realized what he'd done: he put suspicion on Merlin. He wanted the bandits to stay ignorant and think that Merlin hated Arthur. "Was it the prince?"

Not trusting himself to speak, Arthur looked down and nodded. He wondered why he didn't just say the truth. It was as though there was a mental block preventing him from saying anything incriminating.

It terrified him.

"Why didn't he just leave you?" Evony wondered as she unraveled the used bandages from his shoulder. A bruise had formed, shining purple against the pale skin. Dried blood clotted over where the arrow punctured him.

"I don't know," Arthur murmured, lost. "When I get an answer myself, you'll be the first to know."

Of course, he knew the reason Merlin gave him: his father would have had Merlin arrested at the very least. However, Arthur did not believe that. It might not have even been because Merlin called Arthur his friend. It had to have been something more, but Arthur had yet to find out what that reason was.

Evony doused a piece of white cloth with water and started wiping away the crusty layer of blood. "It must be hard dealing with him each day."

 _With his stubbornness? You have no idea._ "Sometimes," he chuckled sadly. He's never admit to it, but he missed the manservant.

"Sometimes?" Evony gave him a look, pausing at cleaning the shoulder blade.

Arthur bit his lip. "But usually I put up with him because it means that I will be treated like a real person."

Evony frowned. "Except his definition of a "real person" is warped. All he sees you as is a servant, just like with all nobles."

That was a lie. Arthur wanted to call her out on that. Sure, when he was younger, he did have a tendency to mistreat servants, but he thought that it was all for fun. Then Merlin made him change his views. Arthur saw Merlin as a human being, so that claim _had_ to have been false. _Right?_

However, Arthur could not deny that he was the one who forced Merlin along on this hunting trip. Every day, Arthur gave Merlin a list of impossible demands, and Merlin was the one who had to put up with Arthur whenever he acted like a prat. Arthur knew that Merlin did not necessarily enjoy all of this, yet he still did it. Arthur took him for granted.

However, Merlin was still a _person_. At least Arthur acknowledged it to some degree. He wasn't like his father. "No, that's not right," he muttered. _"I'm not like that anymore, am I?"_

"Pardon?"

Arthur realized that he must have said the last part aloud. "Sorry?" Arthur said, feigning confusion.

"I thought you said something."

Arthur shook his head quickly, acting on impulse and not on common sense. The motion could be regarded with skepticism and all would be to naught. "No, I didn't say anything." The blond paused, trying to find a way to put Merlin in a better light without giving anything away. "But, to be honest, he isn't that bad. You don't know him like I do. He'd put his life down for anyone."

Evony finished wiping away the excess dried blood and proceeded to wrap Arthur's wound. With as much coldness as she could muster, the blonde woman accused, "What proof do you have, then?"

Arthur wished that he could tell her. He wanted to remove that contempt from her voice as she spoke of Merlin. He's saved Arthur personally a couple times. There was the instance with Lady Helen and the knife. The poisoned chalice that never seemed to leave Arthur's mind. His words of advice on nearly every other occasion whilst the prince was in danger, usually a warning not to trust someone later revealed to have wanted Arthur dead. Merlin would have drank the poison offered by Anhora to save Arthur, only it was later proved to be a simple sleeping draft. He was sure that Merlin had some hand to play in his recovery after the Questing Beast. And it was not just Arthur. Merlin went as far as to claim he had magic to save Guinevere from a fiery death. Arthur was sure that Merlin would have also claimed magic to protect Will if his friend had not died. As Gaius's ward, he's helped nearly everyone in the castle from a potentially fatal injury or disease.

Yet Merlin never stopped doing what he did best: being Merlin. He's risked his own safety so many times that it gave Arthur pause. How could he explain all this to someone who would disbelieve anything Arthur said about the so-called "prince" about being a kind and loyal boy?

Interpreting Arthur's silence as submission, Evony tightly wound the cloth around Arthur's shoulder with a grimace. "You'll come to terms soon enough." She finished wrapping the arm. "Well, your shoulder's on the road to recovery. I'll leave you unbound because we're not the bad guys. You'll soon see that."***

Oh, Arthur completely disagreed with her. Of course the bandits were the bad guys. Did she not hear the agonizing screams down the corridors? Torture was never the answer. Even King Uther saved it only for the worst of criminals, not a harmless serving boy playing prince. If he could, Arthur would get up right now and throttle Evony for ever thinking that Merlin was a terrible person. He was not even sure if he could hold back on the actual guards who have physically harmed the boy.

Almost as if sensing his inner turmoil, Evony warned with exasperation, "Don't try anything stupid." Then she left.

Arthur stared as the door was latched shut. There was an audible _click_ as it locked. Escape was nearly impossible. He did not know where in the dungeons he was. Hell, he did not know where _Merlin_ was. A shiver ran down the prince's spine. Why did he not tell Evony the truth? All these opportunities he had, it was almost as if he didn't _want_ to.

But that was ridiculous. Arthur was trained to handle pain. Merlin was not. It was clear which roles belonged to whom.

His right forearm tingled. Arthur disregarded it at first, but a sense of unease remained as a shadow of his mind. What was that? It was almost like that jolt that woke him from his slumber, only worse. Arthur put aside his qualms involving Merlin for a moment to ponder the unnatural feeling. Then it changed to guilt as he realized that it paled in comparison with what was going on with Merlin.

 _No, princes don't feel guilt, least of all for a servant. Not worry either. It's just a healthy concern. Right?_

* * *

Arthur returned back to reality at the sound of the door opening. He did not bother attempt to make a run for it when he saw the unfortunate boy being shoved ruthlessly inside. Merlin was drenched from skin to bone. _Gods he is pale._ His left arm was strapped to an iron belt behind his back. As for his right arm, it was dangling uselessly at his side. The skin was blue and red, swollen to the max. Arthur felt the urge to vomit. There was no doubt in his mind that it was broken.

All Arthur could feel was sympathy and anger. Sympathy for the servant being dragged into this mess. Anger for those who dared hurt Merlin. A lump rose up Arthur's throat.

Merlin landed on his disabled arm and grunted loudly. Arthur stared in horrifying fascination at awkward position of the broken bone. He could hardly imagine the godforsaken pain that must have coursed through Merlin's body. This could have been him. This could have been Arthur's arm brought to ruin. Yet it wasn't.

"You can stare all you like, it's not going to get better on its own." Arthur winced at the croak that came out, no doubt a result from crying out. Merlin was staring back, still on the floor. His eyes had already begun to sink in.

Arthur stepped forward and pulled up the serving boy with gentleness. "But that's going too far. Your arm looks worse than... Leon's after the joust." _Worse than mine did after the Questing Beast._

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Merlin smiled meekly. "It could have been worse."

Flabbergasted, Arthur spat out, " _Could've been worse?!_ Your arm is swollen to the point that you can't even wear a proper shackle, instead being forced in some chain connected to a belt. Your fingers are fractured, probably both your radius and your ulna as well. You are practically useless." He did not mean for any of this to slip out. His meager apology died on his lips despite the look of hurt shot by Merlin at him.

"Yet I'm still breathing. It's better me than you. You have a better chance at getting out and getting help." Merlin shifted. He was unable to disguise the cringe that carried over his lips and took over his face.

"Except they have guards stationed everywhere," Arthur pointed out, his eyes travelling in disgust to the broken arm of Merlin, "and you know my father. He wouldn't send help." _Not for a useless serving boy._

Merlin nodded glumly. "You're probably right."

Arthur felt another wave of fault. Merlin did not even try to deny what was the truth. Arthur very much doubted that he would be able to get his father to back him up on this and send the knights. Leon might follow him, and Lord knows that Morgana would find a way to follow. Guinevere might even come. Gaius would send his blessings if not coming himself despite his age...but that was it.***

He loathed the sickening image of the broken arm. Arthur wanted it to go away, but even while he closed his eyes, he could see it. It was a shattered, bloated mess. The fingers were far too stiff, and the arm was far too limp. In his eyes, no man was deserving of this fate, least of all Merlin. However, the raven-haired boy was stuck with it. It would take months for it to heal.

"Can you move?" Arthur whispered as his eyes darted over to the pile of clean bandages Evony left behind close to the bed. He did not remember getting up, distinctly remembering his legs moving to the bench.

"Yeah," Merlin answered warily, his voice coming out strained. "It was not my ankle they broke."

"Then get over here, idiot, and let me treat your arm."

Merlin cocked his head. "Didn't think you cared."

Hastily, Arthur defended his pride. "I don't. I-um..." He struggled to find an excuse for his concern. "Your arm. It makes me sick just looking at it. I'm going to vomit."

Merlin snorted, blowing the hair out of his face. His voice took a teasing note. "Whatever, prat. And here was I thinking that you were about to show a nicer and more _emotional_ side of you."

"Shut up, _Mer_ lin," Arthur said while the tips of his ears turned pink, "and get over here."

Merlin scooted over in a daze. Arthur was careful in lifting him up from under the arms so that he was next to him on the metal bed. He had Merlin hold the arm against his chest. Merlin knew better than to refuse, but that did not stop the hushed gasp that escaped his lips as he grasped the broken limb. Arthur did not know entirely what he was doing, but he started wrapping the arm anyway in the cloth. He had to stabilize the broken bone, else it would become infected.

Arthur was surprised when Merlin spoke. "I don't regret it, you know. Saving your life."

Arthur found himself scoffing as he draped the arm in bandages. "It wasn't _my_ life that was at stake this time around, Merlin."

His voice dead serious, Merlin responded, "I wasn't talking about now."

Arthur frowned. _What else could he mean?_ "Then what time are you talking about? The time with the witch impersonating Lady Helen, or the poison?"***

Merlin's eyes became dazed. "Both...neither...it doesn't matter, does it? I don't regret anything...and you shouldn't either."

Arthur looked down at the arm he was treating. The words stung at his heart. "I don't regret pushing you out of the way." And he didn't. There was still a dull ache in his shoulder, and it gave Arthur a sense of control in knowing that he chose this fate. It dawned on him what Merlin was going to say next.

"I wasn't talking about that, either. You just regret how easy it made it for me to impersonate you." Arthur left fist tightened because that was the truth. "Which, by the way, I am doing a fantastic job at."

Arthur mumbled, "I find that hard to believe."

"Oh yeah?!" Merlin's voice rose, and Arthur looked at his face in shock. There was a sneer on his face, one that the blond prince never thought possible on his bubbly servant. "Well, maybe if you actually paid attention, you'd notice things. But wait, you are so thick that everything slips right past you. And you're doing a terrible job at wrapping my arm, by the way. I could do better one-handed than whatever it is you're doing. I don't know why I put up with you for so long. I swear, you're an accident waiting to happen."

Arthur's fingers froze. Muttering so that he did not yell, Arthur replied, "Excuse me?" In answer, Merlin grinned goofily, the anger gone from his eyes. _Oh, he was faking it._ "Oh, I get it." He resumed binding Merlin's arm. "I don't act like that."

Merlin was no longer showing obvious signs of pain. "No, you just act like a prat."

A ghost of a smile danced on Arthur's cherry-lips. "A prat who holds the power to put you in the stocks for a fortnight."

Cheekily, Merlin bantered, "Except my wrist probably cannot handle the strain. Besides, rotten tomatoes don't agree with bandages."

Arthur felt more relaxed. "One-handed, then, and we can find a potato sack to protect the other arm."

Merlin snickered, devious musing in his eyes. "Well, I'm sure Gwen will very much appreciate you for sending a wounded man to the stocks just for damaging your pride."

Arthur blushed. Guinevere certainly would not approve of Arthur if he actually went through with it. Which he wouldn't, but no need to tell Merlin that. "One week, and we wait for when you're healed up and ready to return to work."

The friendly banter died down with the haunting words Merlin spoke next. " _If_ I get better."

"You will," Arthur said sternly. "I command it."

"Since when have I ever listened to anything you say?" Merlin argued.

Arthur gave him a scornful look. "Obey me now, Merlin. I'm ordering you."

"It's not my decision." Arthur saw a flash of fear in Merlin's cobalt eyes. "Sirs Big and Ugly are the ones who choose what to do to me."

Arthur took a moment to tilt his head and pinch his noses. "Don't tell me that they know you call them that."

"Okay, I won't!" Arthur scowled at Merlin, who was feigning cheerfulness.

"Gods, Merlin!" Arthur scolded. "They will only make things worse for you."

"Kind of got that when they stole my bread."

Arthur shut his eyes and inhaled. "They _stole_ your bread?" _What the hell, Merlin?_ He exhaled loudly through his mouth.

"Yeah," Merlin confirmed, seemingly ignoring the impatient look his master was giving him, "and when I asked for water, well..." Merlin let go of his broken arm, though why he was still holding it in place since it was now bound to his chest Arthur could not say. With a shaking left hand, Merlin gestured at his dripping wet hair.***

Arthur was _this_ close to smacking Merlin, the bruises around his cheeks being the only reason he didn't. "So that is why you're wet." He guffawed. "Honestly, Merlin, you have to learn to keep your mouth shut."

Arthur had hoped that Merlin would take the hint; he could do with some quiet to allow for some concentration. However, Merlin retorted, "Like you do any better. If you had your way, roles would be swapped."

Arthur blinked. "At least then things would be the way they should be." The guilt came back. Forget princely standards. Arthur was, no, _is_ at fault for this. Why bother deny it?

"Things never turn out the way you think they should, but in reality, they do." Merlin sounded tired. His throat was hoarse and croaky, yet the words were strong and powerful. Arthur had an inkling that he should listen to Merlin.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

The edges of Merlin's mouth curved downward. "After all these years, you would think that I would know my path, yet things always happen that don't go to plan. However, I _feel_ like I was supposed to pretend to be you. It just feels right; I can't describe it, Arthur. I think that right now, things are as they should, even if you beg to differ."

It was times like this when Merlin actually sounded wise beyond his years. His eyes had that distant look in them, yet they had the potency to bore into Arthur's soul. Arthur was almost shaken, yet he could not admit that Merlin might have been right. "You're delirious," he said simply. "Did they drug you to force you to comply."

Merlin glared daggers at Arthur. "I'm serious, you clotpole."

Arthur grumbled, "Course you are." He looked down and realized that he was finished bandaging Merlin's broken arm to his body. "Are the bandages too tight?"

Evidently, Merlin was prepared to argue more with Arthur. "No, really, I-" Then he caught on. "What?"

Slowly, like speaking to a young child, Arthur repeated, "Are. The bandages. Too tight?"

Merlin stuttered incredulously, "They-they're fine," and his eyes traveled to the white cloth draped snugly over his arm, "but don't-"

Arthur interrupted conveniently, "I think I can make a decent sling for your arm, if I do say so myself."

Coldly, Merlin said, "Arthur."

Pretending not to hear Merlin's protests, Arthur continued, "Hopefully the bandits won't disregard my work. Besides, Gaius should be able to properly look at your arm when we get back."

"Arth-"

Arthur cut him off _yet again_. "And _please_ refrain from insulting them further to their face. They will punish you again." He stood up and started towards the straw pallet on the floor. "Got to keep up appearances.

"Arthur!"

"Shut up, Merlin!" Arthur growled. He sank down to his knees on top of the hay, wrapping a pitiful blanket around his legs.

Merlin glared down at him from where he was still sitting. He was seething. "No, listen to me you _prat!_ When will you ever accept that it's not your destiny to protect me?!"

"When will you?!" Arthur snapped.

That effectively shut Merlin up. However, judging by the pained expression in Merlin's eyes, Arthur couldn't help but wonder if it was something he said.

* * *

 _ **And there you have it. Not much action, but both injuries are treated somewhat. Amazing Arthur and Merlin banter. Next chapter, we go back to torture. I have all the torture planned out now. My sister stared at me in horror when I asked her this certain question and then explained.**_

 _ **I have a sword now! It's named Excalibur, and I love it with all my heart. It's a little small (23.5 inches/59.69 centimeters). It's still pretty cool. I also have a pocketknife, and my next goal is a combat pocketknife. And if it has a dragon on it, I will go insane.**_

 _ **Thank you 01beirke, 7happybears, AnimeLover2117, Bats4Books, Bluebox345, Candle-lit Dreams, Chatterbox818, CoolBeans100, Dudewheresmywand, EllyBee8, FandomsAreEverywhere, Fletty, Gabriel's Wings - Love Squares, HonourProject, Imasuperher0, IndigoAndTheFandoms, Kas3y, Kaseyboy, Kidzukarenai, Ladyliz2, Liljn, Linorien, Lycropanthy, MandaScooby, Meganekko83, Megwar, MetaBlade, NerdGirlAlert, Netiri Vi Britannia, Origami Pen, Percy James Frost, Pheobe Arocis, Pielover515, Pilyarquitect, Professor Cuddles, QwertyBobberson, RangerHorseTug, RarissimaAvis, Red Moon Lollipop, Renchikara, Sakura022496, ScruffydaDruid, ShadowDragon1553, Shiori07, Skyleighdragon, Skypeoplephoenix732, Snoopy8907, SoaringEagle01, StephanieStephanie, SummerElfOwl, Thats lemos, TheChosenJedi142, TheDarkestDreams, The anomalous, Tony WildRiver, Wallaruby, XphiaDP, abyssofshame, catie . rasmussen, cmfisher, cyenthia 30, dandelionseeds, dauntlessdemigodshadowhunter, estallias, iceprincess2020, justalittleawesome, kaytriactr, kittycat1810, mersan123, morbidbookworm, moroflake, oliviilskov, sarajm, skydoe16, sparrowsmelody, staymagical, steellord, suprNEONligt, theidjitqueen, xJackFrostx, xXLadyLaufeyXx, xxxLeanniexxx, and zendog for following.**_

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 _ **Thank you XphiaDP, skydoe16, Chatterbox818, MandaScooby, dandelionseeds, TheDarkestDreams, Lycropanthy, Linorien, Ladyliz2, Percy James Frost, Origami Pen, Red Moon Lollipop, TheTownWeirdo, musicalgirll4474, xxxLianniexxx, NerdGirlAlert, mersan123, Pilyarquitect, and both of my guests for reviewing the story.**_

 _ **Can we make it to 100 followers by next chapter? Pwetty pwease? Love you all, and have a good day/night :)**_

 _ **~Lya200~**_


	5. Protect Arthur

**_108 FOLLOWERS! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!_**

 ** _And thank you to MagicoftheWorld for being my 100th follower!_**

 ** _You guys are amazing, you know that! I had so many reviews for last chapter alone! I love having all of this support. At least SOMETHING is going right in my life :D_**

 ** _Okay, for this chapter: we are jumping around. A lot. Some scenes take place with Merlin and Arthur. Some take place in Camelot. I am hinting further at my plans for this story. There is a little more whump in this chapter, but not as bad. I think that the title is pretty self-explanatory (I mean, Merlin is the one who has been naming all five chapters AND this story.)_**

 ** _Right now I just want to go on a full rant about this chapter, but I'll save that for the end._**

-"Morgana's Nightmares" by Rob Lane (Merlin)

-"The Fisher King" by Rob Lane (Merlin)

-"Arthur Asked to Lead" by Rob Lane (Merlin)

-"Possession" by Nicholas Hooper (Harry Potter)

-"Bilbo's Song" by Howard Shore (Lord of the Rings)

 ** _Let's see, anything else to say? I think not, other than..._**

Let's Go On An Adventure

* * *

Protect Arthur

The raven-haired figure thrashed desperately in the bed. Moonlight shone through her brand-new curtains. The movements, at first subtle, quickly escalated into something more violent. If she had been with a companion, the friend would have came to comfort the traumatized sleeper. However, fate deemed it that the Lady Morgana be alone that night. She had sent home her maidservant hours ago. For once, she had hoped that she could rest in peace. Ever since Merlin directed her to the Druids a month ago, Morgana's sleep had been more peaceful. The nightmares had become fewer. Don't get her wrong, they still came, but she understood them now.

But now they were back full force, and she suspected that it had something to do with the disappearance of Prince Arthur and Merlin. Morgana's vision was fast-paced and gruesome. It was vivid and foreboding.

An arrow piercing armour and lodging itself into flesh. Tattered banners flying in the breeze over a ghost-town now under the run of bandits. A hammer crushing colourless fingers relentlessly. A leather-clad fist smacking the side of an elaborate chair. The crack of a whip across a scarred back. The contents of a falling bowl spilling out across the floor. Blood dripping from untreated wounds into a scarlet puddle. A molten golden light filling a room from an unidentifiable source. The swish of a dark and flowing cape as it turned the corner. A silver bracelet glistening briefly in the moonlight. An army of men reporting for duty. A magnificent sword at the bottom of a lake. A spray of fire inside a cavern. Two hands holding each other, pale, bloodied, and disfigured. A body collapsing to the ground, broken and lifeless.

A woman's voice could be heard instead of the sounds of the actions being performed. It was looming and powerful, yet it was also emotionless and cold. The voice echoed, as if times three, " _This is where the path leads. And it could be where it ends. Be wary, Morgan Le Fay. The end may yet be as near as it is far_."

Then Morgana jolted awake, sitting up inside her bed and gasping for air. Her eyes briefly shined a pale gold before fading to their usual emerald green.

* * *

Merlin certainly did not want to be one of the bandits right now. There were shadows in Prince Arthur's eyes, entirely directed at the villains. Every time Arthur gave him a quick glance, Merlin saw them. They were most prominent in the glares directed to his tormentors. They had come in once bearing food. No one spoke. It had been a different guard this time. There had been something about him that reminded Merlin of someone, but he could not place his finger on it. The guard seemed almost sympathetic unlike everyone else Merlin has encountered, but, then again, the negative energy being emitted from Arthur was clouding Merlin's perception of almost everything.

It was difficult eating no-handed. At least Arthur was now unbound and could eat with both hands. Merlin wasn't sure how he felt about that. It was almost an invitation for Arthur to attack the guards. If they had actually stood a chance at escape, then Merlin might not have cared as much for Arthur's impulse. However, all that could come out of an escape attempt was more trouble than it was worth. Merlin knew that deep down, Arthur knew this as well. But those shadows in his eyes...

They made Merlin uneasy, and he wasn't even the one Arthur was mad at. At least, he hoped Arthur wasn't upset with him for the whole debacle. Merlin still had yet to regret his decision to take Arthur's place ( _Protect Arthur_ ), but he'd be lying if he said that the prince felt the same. It was nice to know that the prat cared, even if it was in his own, prattish way. The broken arm bound to his chest was proof enough. There had been, however, some poorly hidden resentment towards the whole situation. _Guilt_ , dare Merlin say.

Merlin bowed his head over the wooden bowl, attempting to lap up the broth like a cat would do with warm milk. The lukewarm liquid kept on sloshing up inside his nose. Half of it didn't end up in Merlin's mouth at all, instead staining his dirty cheeks. He almost choked on a bit of the soup going down the wrong pipe. Merlin spent nearly a minute trying to cough up the substance to no avail. His eyes watered in discomfort. His vision blackened, but then he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist and connect just below his belly button, one hand on top of the other fist. There was an upward and inward thrust into his abdomen. The movement repeated for a few more times before the choking subsided.

Still wheezing, Merlin turned, almost expecting to see that it was Arthur who helped him. Instead, the blond prince was still on the floor on the other side of the cell, a mixture of shock and suspicion being his only reaction. His blue eyes were narrowed at Merlin's saviour, threatening silently that if he so much as _hurt_ Merlin...

It was the guardsman. His dark features were almost expressionless, but there was a flash of relief in his chocolate brown eyes. The man released Merlin at once, sending a cautious look at Arthur. The aforementioned man dropped his metal spoon into the wooden bowl with a clatter. It was painfully obvious that Arthur had expected something far worse, or at least that the other man would have turned a blind eye.

That is what any other bandit would have done.

Merlin rubbed his throat. Since he was playing the role of prince, his only acknowledgement was a solemn nod in the guard's direction. Of course, it was more than what Arthur gave him the first time Merlin saved the clotpole's life. The prince had griped to his father day and night for the next few days, only shutting up about it when Merlin warned him of Knight Valient. The closest to thanking him _ever_ was after the thing with the poisoned chalice. Arthur did not thank people.

In response, the guard just grunted. He backed away to be closer to the door. It was locked of course. There were two bandits at least outside standing guard. If there had been a disturbance, then the two would have surged in here to aid the bandits' cause.

Merlin looked glumly at the bowl. _How do I eat this without choking to death again?_ He stared pleadingly at Arthur. Arthur understood the unasked question, and, shooting the watchman a scathing look, set down his empty dish. He walked over soundlessly to where Merlin was sitting with his legs dangling over the edge of the pathetic bed, his own spoon in hand (they had neglected to provide a spare for Merlin).***

Arthur, struggling for a moment due to his weakened shoulder, dipped the utensil into the bowl of stew and brought it to Merlin's chapped lips. Merlin's mouth barely opened, but it was enough for the metal spoon and broth to fit. The warlock used his tongue to lick the tasteless substance and swallow it. His voice was sore from the lack of water and the horribly-suppressed screams from the torture. The last time he properly drank water was a few days ago during the hunting trip. Sirs Big and Ugly submerging his head underneath the pump did not count.

Merlin almost felt tempted to mock Arthur for helping a servant, but to do so would be suicide. There were still ears everywhere, including the walls. There was also the oddly familiar guardsman, who now stood with his back to the door with his arms crossed and his weapon forgotten in its scabbard. The dark guard stood still, watching Arthur and Merlin curiously.

Merlin took a moment to look at Arthur. His face was stiff, revealing nothing of his guilt, and his eyes were shadowed from anger still, although some of it had subsided when they found an unlikely ally of the guard.

Because that is who he was. Once the bowl had been empty, and all the dishes had been taken away, the watchman had stayed a little longer, studying the two further. Then he smiled in a way that reminded Merlin so much of Gwen (and maybe Arthur too, because the prat seemed to relax).

"If you are ever in need of something, say 'Elyan' through the door, and I can help." Then he winked a chocolate-coloured eye and left them alone.

* * *

The grand set of doors opened. Gaius looked up, his mouth set in a tight line but his eyes ablaze with hope. That burning feeling was quickly extinguished when he saw the grim face of the redheaded knight. Sir Leon went on his knees in front of Uther's throne. He bowed his head. "Sire."

Uther, who had too straightened at the arrival of his Second Knight, slouched in the most unkingly manner. "Any sign of him?" King Uther asked coldly, although both he and Gaius knew the answer.

Leon's response still drove daggers through Gaius's heart even though he already knew the answer. "No M'lord. It's almost as if Prince Arthur and Merlin have vanished."

It was something easily missed, except the age-old man caught it. Leon had said Arthur and Merlin. It almost comforted Gaius to know that his ward wasn't entirely forgotten. Whilst Uther had woed over the disappearance of his only son and heir, he had seemed to forget that he wasn't the only one missing a son.

"It's been five days," Gaius murmured stiffly.

Uther nodded in agreeance. "Arthur should have been back yesterday. Have all of the patrols returned?"

Solemnly, Leon replied, "Yes, Sire."

Uther looked down at his gloved fist. Gaius could scarcely overlook how badly it was shaking. The king steadied it on the armrest of his throne. "Send two-" Uther coughed and cleared his throat. "Send two more in the direction of Cenred's kingdom. Have one scour the Forest of Ascetir for clues and the other to continue onward to the border."

Doubtfully, Leon started, "Sire..."

Uther misinterpreted Sir Leon's reluctance. "I am not going to give up on my son. I know he's out there. Cenred has had something to do with it. Only he would be spineless enough to go against the terms of our agreement."

Leon fiddled with a ginger ringlet. "Forgive me, Sire, but wouldn't it be wise to send patrols in the other directions as well. There are others with grudges against Camelot, you, or Arthur."

There was a bleak silence. Gaius remembered the events of just last month when Morgana was 'kidnapped' by the Druids. The Court Physician knew the truth of course. Merlin might be hiding the most deadly secret out of all of them, but he was a terrible liar.

Anyone could have taken them. It could have been a vengeful sorcerer. It could have been a greedy warlord. There was a fair number of kings who wanted Camelot's lands. Gaius was not discounting King Cenred, but there were other possibilities. It was known across the kingdom that Odin wanted Arthur dead. Gaius felt his stomach drop at the thought. Just two months ago, the vile king sent an assassin into the heart of Camelot for Arthur, who had foolishly stayed behind for a tournament and ended up injuring his arm.

"Bayard and Caerleon would not dare!" Uther hissed. "It must have been Cenred. The gutless toad." He punched his throne angrily, the sound resonating across the room. Everyone jumped.

Morgana squirmed in her lavish chair beside Uther's throne. There were dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, and her skin was pale as though she had seen a ghost. Gaius wanted little more than to know what was distressing the king's ward all of a sudden, but he could not say in front of Uther. He had a hunch that he would not like the answer. She might have some small level of understanding of her powers now, but the girl was still visibly terrified.

The Knight nodded gravely. "We'll leave at first light. I'll lead them myself."

"No!" Uther boomed. "With Arthur gone, I need you here to man the defense. If it was Cenred, then we may just be going to war."

Gaius bit his tongue. Less and less he was thinking that it was the heartless warlord, when he thought about it. What would he stand to gain out of kidnapping the Crown Prince and his servant boy? _None of this made any sense. Oh, Merlin..._

Still visibly shaken, Morgana attempted to compose herself and spoke to Uther, her voice little more than a whimper. "My Lord, if there is indeed a possibility that it was not Cenred, then shouldn't we..."

"Who else would it be?!" Uther snapped.

Morgana jumped. "...Bandits." She averted her eyes from the king.

Uther laughed dryly. "They would have sent a ransom by now."

Gaius narrowed his eyes at the woman. As he had suspected, her face fell. Morgana knew something. _Was she thinking of her nightmares?_ "Right...I'm just- I'm just worried about them, that's all." She twirled one of her midnight curls around her left finger, afraid.

Leon chose that moment to comfort her. "We'll find them, M'lady." He issued a reassuring smile, one that Morgana returned. It wasn't anything romantic, merely platonic, and it certainly was not forced, either. It was the mark of friendship.

Then that moment had ended. Leon returned his respect and attention to his king. "Will that be all Sire?"

Uther balanced his chin in his right hand thoughtfully. "No. I need you to send a message out to Lord Agravaine. It's only right that he should know." Uther frowned deeply.

Gaius felt the urge to slap the king. For one thing, Agravaine and Uther absolutely loathed the sight of the other. Things were bad enough when Agravaine simply disapproved of the man his sister fell in love with. Then Ygraine died, and Agravaine blamed Uther for both her death and the death of their brother Tristan. Agravaine sometimes visited Camelot under the pretense of checking up on his nephew, but Gaius had the hunch that he cared as much for the boy as he did dung. It was Morgana he seemed to like.

The other reason why Gaius had his doubts about alerting him was because he did not trust Lord Agravaine. There was always something shady about the man. Agravaine seemed to care little for anything other than himself. The thin stick that represented his compassion died the same day that Ygraine died. He slinked around the castle whenever he did visit, always in seeming pursuit of something. Probably information on the inner workings of Camelot. Sir Tristan de Bois cursed Camelot with his dying breath. It was only natural for Gaius to suspect the "subtle" dislike of the city to be shared by the brother.

Perhaps Gaius was paranoid. However, there was that elusive thought inside of his head that thought that it would be better for everyone for Lord Agravaine to not know of the Crown Prince's disappearance. For the sake of Arthur and his ward, Gaius hoped that his suspicions were unfounded.

"Of course. I'll see to it right away, Sire." Sir Leon stood up, recognizing the dismissal. He bowed to King Uther then exited the hall.

Uther and Gaius shared a look. There was some mutual understanding between the two. They needed to talk, _alone._ Uther glanced at his lovely ward. "Morgana, you may as well return to your chambers. I don't understand your fascination with this subject. It's all you seemed to be asking about for the last few days."

Morgana's face seemed to redden in anger slightly. "But you need to-"

Uther gave her a look. "Now, Morgana."

She stared at him coldly. Then Lady Morgana exhaled and followed Leon through the doors to the throne room.***

The moment she was gone and it was just him and Gaius in the room, King Uther became a different man. He slouched even more, a defeated man. His carefully schooled emotions started to become more prominent in the hardened king's features. _Uther is worried for his son. I am worried for both of them._

"My Lord," Gaius acknowledged. At Uther's nod, he continued, "Perhaps it would be wise to ask the other Kingdoms for help in finding the two."

Uther reminded Gaius of a madman. "What will that lead to?! The moment they realize our weakness, they will strike! Treaties will mean nothing!"

Gaius sighed, his frustration threatening to boil over. "Uther, you are taking a huge risk. It may not have been Cenred. It would be easier to have eyes and ears everywhere."

"That will be a sign of weakness!" Uther snapped, turning onto Gaius with a snarl.

"No, waiting is a sign of _stubbornness_ _and foolhardiness_!" Gaius seldom yelled at his king. There was little reason to. It was true that he did so more than most, rivaled only by Arthur and Morgana. However, today was one of those such rare occasions. Lowering his voice, Gaius advised, "Put aside your pride, Uther."

Uther tittered mirthlessly. "I cannot do that, Gaius. Regardless of what you may think, I know what is best for Prince Arthur. My _son_ is missing!"

" _And so is mine!_ " Gaius barked. Because that was who Merlin was to him. Biologically, Merlin was his nephew, but seeing as Balinor was out of the picture, he had hoped that Merlin grew to see him as a father figure just as much as Gaius saw the boy as his son.

Uther sulked, realizing too late that he had struck a nerve. "Th-that's right. Your ward. Merlin, isn't it?"

Gaius nodded somberly. "Yes, Sire. _Both_ of them are missing, not just Arthur, contrary to popular belief. I for one want to see something done about it! Maybe, instead of blaming the first person who comes to mind, you will actually see sense and not immediately discount everything else. You can talk to me when you do." Then Gaius left the room, leaving a stunned Uther Pendragon in his wake.***

* * *

Merlin barely registered anything at all. As the next fist came flying at him, he just thought of his resolve. _Protect Arthur_. He did not know what the bandits stood to gain out of torturing him, nor did he bring himself to care. Simple beating he could handle. It was confusing why they started with something so brutal before downgrading their methods.

Then again, most of the blows were directed at his broken arm. Now that they had an injury to play with, the bandits were beyond caring whether or not Merlin had enough. They were set on scaring Merlin psychologically, but as long as his resolve did not waver, then the pseudo prince was untouchable (according to himself).

 _Protect Arthur_.

Two words. They came so naturally to Merlin's mind. Even if he so much as thought _Arthur_ , the response was immediate: _Protect him. Protect Arthur_.

Sir Big (Merlin was still refusing to call them by their real names even though they had now introduced themselves to Arthur) curled up his fist and struck his humerus, jolting his entire right arm. And intensifying the pain of his broken bones just below. If Merlin still had proper use of arm after this, he would be lucky.

It was better that it was him, though. He did not have to use his right arm for magic. It did not even need to be completely functional to channel magic energy. However, Arthur would have been forever affected if he lost use of his right arm. People of noble birth were taught from a young age to use their right arms for everything. Governesses were known to beat the children using their left hands to write. The irrational attitude towards left-handedness was not helped by the Great Purge when the rumour came out that witches were left-handed.

Arthur traditionally favoured his right hand in a fight. If he were to lose it, then he just would never be the same.

 _Protect Arthur_.

Merlin almost made it a game to suppress his grunts for as long as possible. The longer he stayed quiet, the better. He would hold in his moans for as long as possible, until when the pain became too much and overwhelmed him. Then Merlin's traitorous mouth would open and let out the betraying yelp, earning him double the amount of affliction purely the bandits' entertainment.

 _Protect Arthur._

It was his mantra, what kept him from breaking and spilling the truth when he screamed out. Instead, Merlin's yells were incomprehensible. Nonsense words, according to the bandits. _Aliese. Him Liffrea, wuldres wealdend woroldare forgeaf. Hathian._ They did not know a spell when they heard one, apparently. The iron shackles, however prevented Merlin from acting on these spells. They were just empty words, like a broken promise of a sorts. At least Merlin was not planning on breaking any promises any time soon.

 _Protect Arthur._

There was a hit to Merlin's thin chest. This time, he could not suppress the _oof_ that came out. That was going to bruise. Merlin did not fancy the idea of dealing with bruised ribs. When the time came for escape, he would be left vulnerable. Every step would bring about new pain. The very task of _breathing_ would be painful. Now the blows were shifting inward towards his stomach and chest area. Merlin blinked out the tears, now moaning softly.

 _Protect Arthur._

Punch. Pu **nc** h. Hit. Kic **k.**

 _Protect Arthur._

 **Ki** c **k**. P **unc** h. **Ki** ck. Pun **ch.**

 _Protect Arthur._

 **Punch. Punch. Kick. Punch. Kick. Blackness.**

* * *

There must have been some sort of disease going around. The only symptom: people were forgetting what it meant to knock. Gaius could not bring himself to mind anymore.

He sighed deeply. "Come in," he muttered as the doors to his chambers flew open impatiently. It was the middle of the night; by only miracle was he still awake. However, he had almost been expecting this.

"Gaius!" The Court Physician looked up with an eyebrow raised to find Morgana with a white fur stole wrapped tightly around her shoulders. She was still in her nightdress. The expression on her face was that of pure terror.

"My lady," Gaius acknowledged sternly. To anyone who did not know Gaius, they would think his nonchalance was genuine. However, Morgana knew of and understood his paternal love for Merlin, a love that she was deprived of at a young age.

"Gaius!" She ran at him and attacked him in a hug. Morgana wept into his shoulder, not caring in the slightest at this sign of vulnerability. "The ni-nightmares. They-they are getting wor-worse," Morgana sobbed.

Gaius patted her shoulder blade comfortingly. "Shh, it's all right. What was it this time?"

Morgana wailed, "The sa-same. The a-arrow, the bandits' town, the ham-mer, th-the fist, the wh-whip, the bowl, the blood, the g-golden light, the-the cape, the brace-let, the army, the sword, the f-fire, the hands, and-and...the body. The bo-body's ba-back! Oh Gaius! What does it all mean?!"

Gaius furrowed a brow. He had not wanted to believe it, but Merlin was right. There was just no way that Morgana did _not_ have magic. Any doubts he still had vanished on the spot. She first came to him with this dream the night when the two boys left Camelot. None of it made any sense, and none of it was pleasing to think about. Especially the body. The features and details were too blurred for Morgana to know whose body it was, but Gaius could not help but selfishly think that it was Merlin.

"I don't know, Morgana. I don't know."***

* * *

Merlin lied across the feeble mattress, his eyes trained on the ceiling above. At least, he thought that it was the ceiling. He couldn't tell for sure. He had become somewhat adjusted to the dark, but his thoughts, according to Arthur, were a jumbled mess and not to be trusted.

No, it was the ceiling. Merlin could breathe (albeit painfully), so he was not smothering himself in a pillow. He did not think he was on his side. All of his weight was on his back. His conclusion was that he was looking up.

Merlin wished that there had been a light source inside the cell. Yes, there was the torch outside of the bars, but hell if that really did anything other than cast dancing lights all over the place. The other thing that drove him mad was his inability to tell time. There were no windows, and the bandits deliberately were coming with food at random intervals. There was no set time when they took Merlin, either. Arthur was now losing sleep. Merlin, well, he would often pass out almost immediately after being returned to the cell.

He turned his head, his neck aching. "Arthur?"

The prince looked up at the sound of Merlin's weakened voice. Arthur was instantly protective and guarded. His face was masked in darkness. "Yes?"

"Have you any idea how long we've been away from Camelot?"

It was an innocent question, but that didn't stop Arthur from looking downward again from guilt. "I don't know. Maybe... Five days? Six? I don't know, I can't tell."

Merlin bit his lip. _Five days?_ What was Gaius thinking? Gwen? Morgana? Uther? Well, he doubted that Uther cared much for him. Merlin was a lot of the times the reason why Arthur disobeyed Uther, if not Morgana or Gwen.

"Arthur?"

There was a long sigh. "Yes _Mer_ lin?"

"How long do you think it would take for Uther to send someone after us."

Arthur scoffed. "They are probably on their way, scavenging the countryside for any signs of you and I. Especially for me, knowing my father." His voice broke off, almost ashamed to speak the truth. The truth that deemed it how it was because he was the prince that they were taken.

Merlin paused. He'd expected as much, but there was that really awful feeling in his gut. He brought up his manacled hand to scratch his chin. There was a jingle as the iron links grazed against each other. When Arthur thought that Merlin was not looking, he glanced upward at the servant for a split second before returning his gaze to his knees.

Merlin did not know when the bandits would return, only that when they did, things would get worse. After breaking his fingers, they promised him a new world of pain. It came in the form of beatings. So far, the blows were concentrated to his broken limb, but the bandits had hinted that worse things had yet to come. Merlin had told Arthur this.

And Arthur was blaming himself for it.

"Arthur."

" _Yes, Mer_ lin?"

Merlin smiled weakly. "None of this is your fault."

Arthur grunted, "To hell it isn't! Of _course_ it is!" He scoffed. "I cannot even protect a _servant!_ How can I be expected to protect Camelot when the time comes?!"

"Because you will have _friends_ who will help you," Merlin reminded. He coughed. As he did so, his sore throat continued to burn. Merlin winced and stopped talking. Arthur seemed to have decided to do the same because he returned to his own musings, whatever they may be.

Merlin faced the ceiling again. _How long until..._

Until what? What was Merlin waiting for exactly? Rescue? The bandits to come in here and take him away? Food? Rest? Death?

 _That escalated quickly._

* * *

"Rise and shine, little princeling. It's show time." Merlin felt a rough set of hands grab him by _both_ of his shoulders.

"Breakfast?" Merlin asked dazedly. He cleared his throat to get back into character. "It would not be wise to starve the future king of Camelot, you know. Then again, you're a bunch of idiots already. Seeing as each of you are currently facing the death penalty, nothing you do can save your skins at this point."

Sir Big huffed, already having enough of the "cheeky prince." "And when will our hangings take place, hmm? Before or after we gut you?" He made a move towards Merlin, causing Arthur, who too was now awake, to tense up. Merlin held his breath. _Time to see if the spell will still hold._

The bandit's crony grabbed his arm to stop him. "Not yet, Rubeus. Dumbo."

Sir Big stopped his advance and shot the pseudo prince a nasty glare. "You are just lucky that we have bigger plans for your royal backside."

There was a grunt. _Protect Arthur._ Merlin watched Arthur calmly from the corner of his eye even though he was facing the two conspirators. Arthur had made a move to protest, but, to Merlin's satisfaction, the spell seemed to hold. His mouth moved, but of course no fatal sounds came out. Arthur rubbed his throat, completely naïve to Merlin's magic. He would not suspect that it was Merlin's work. Hopefully.

"I'll be glad to hear them," Merlin said with forced cheer. "Of course, you would have to actually get me to comply." Arthur narrowed his eyes at Merlin reproachfully, silently urging him to shut up because if he had said it aloud, he'd risk revealing to the enemies the deception. Unfortunately, Merlin never listened to Arthur. "You guys are fools if you think that."

 _CRACK!_ Sir Ugly gave Merlin a swift uppercut to the jaw. "Let's get going, _boy_."

He took him roughly by his left shoulder, and Sir Ugly took him by the right. Still reeling from the pain, he almost missed the angered look given to him by Arthur. Almost.

* * *

The cell again. Even with the blindfold, Merlin was sure that he could remember the way there and back again simply by memorizing the turns. It was a shame that they never took him outside.

They attached the iron manacle around his good wrist to the wall. Same deal as it was since his arm was broken. They would beat him senseless. Merlin withstood through all of this like a breeze.

Then... "Today, we're changing up the rules of the game a little. Since _your highness_ will not react to the beatings, we will need a different stimulus. Then, tomorrow, we are trying something new. Consider this a last _hurrah_."

In sync, the two armed themselves with wooden clubs. They were carved from old wooden support beams from the town. There were still rusted nails inside of the material. Merlin eyed them apprehensively.

 _Protect Arthur._

And Merlin then straightened his back. "Only now do you thick-heads decide to up the stakes?"

Sir Big took a test-swing to the wall. There was a sickening _whack_ as the club made contact with the stone. "Be careful of what you say, _Prince_ Arthur, because that might just be your head next."

 _At least it won't be my arm_. Merlin twisted his tongue. Arthur was not going to be happy about this latest form of abuse.

 _Protect Arthur._

Merlin could not bring himself to care.

* * *

 ** _Boom. Some resolves. First off, Morgana's been having her nightmares. What the heck do they mean? Any predictions?_**

 ** _Yes, I dragged Elyan into this. It was always my intention to have him in this, but I realized that it would probably be better for you to know that he existed from the get-go. Don't bother asking what he's doing here with the bandits, all is going to plan nicely..._**

 ** _My sister freaked out when I said that and started laughing evilly. Because I did so aloud. I feel accomplished._**

 ** _As you have guessed, the chapter is referring to Merlin's resolve of "Protect Arthur/Him." Really weird fact, that has been repeating in my head for the past few weeks. I have no clue why, but I make the joke that I am secretly a seer a lot, so who knows? It might just be further proof of my insanity. I swear that a day may come when my mom finally decides to take me to a psychiatrist, but it is not this day._**

 ** _And I am officially the history nerd :D I got a 100 on my US history test, being the only one to do so, and the next highest grade was an 85. It is great. I love my history._**

 ** _For Sirs Big and Ugly. I will go ahead and say their real names. There will be no real introduction (can't think of how to do one), but I've said their names in passing, and Arthur will call them so in his POVs. Sir Big is Rubeus (after Rubeus Hagrid from Harry Potter), and Sir Ugly is Grima (after Grima Wormtongue from Lord of the Rings)._**

 ** _Arguably, I think one of my favorite things about this chapter is Gaius going off on Uther. And now I have to think to use the American spelling of words like "favorite." I bet any English papers I'll have will be amazing because I can't simply use "whilst," "colour," and "trousers," can I? Well, I technically could...but they look for standard English._**

 ** _I read online that left-handedness was apparently associated with witches in the 15th and 16th centuries, and I thought that actually fit for this story. I thought that it was just a noble thing._**

Random Chaos: Thank you! I hope that you are happy with their characterizations this chapter, even though they have only one small conversation in this tiny chapter. May it be that you enjoyed this chapter :)

katiec345: Thank you for your review :)

 _ **Thank you 01beirke, 7happybears, AnimeLover2117, ArthurPendragons, BAKA 00, Bats4Books, Bay2929, Betty. S, Bluebox345, Candle-lit Dreams, Chatterbox818, ChigauBakemono, CooCooBird, CoolBeans100, Dudewheresmywand, ElenoreRigby, EllyBee8, Everlocke, FandomsAreEverywhere, Gabriel's Wings - Love Squares, Goldenstream Kagamine, Grank, HonourProject, Imasuperher0, IndigoAndTheFandoms, J.S. Comack, Kas3y, Kaseyboy, Kidzukarenai, Ladyliz2, Liljn, Linorien, Livxoxo, Lycropanthy, M1ndb3nd, MagicoftheWorld, MandaScooby, Meganekko83, Megwar, MetaBlade, MsCassity, NerdGirlAlert, Netiri Vi Britannia, Origami Pen, Percy James Frost, Pheobe Arocis, PhoenixUniverse, Pilyarquitect, Professor Cuddles, Quoth the Night, QwertyBobberson, RangerHorseTug, RarissimaAvis, Red Moon Lollipop, Renchikara, RoxyMoxy7625, Saimiri, Sakura022496, ScruffydaDruid, Shiori07, Skyleighdragon, Skypeoplephoenix732, Snoopy8907, SoaringEagle01, StephanieStephanie, Stitch2012, SummerElfOwl, Thats lemos, TheChosenJedi142, TheDarkestDreams, The anomalous, Tolleren, Tony WildRiver, Wallaruby, XphiaDP, abyssofshame, brownierocks55, catie . rasmussen, cmfisher, cyenthia 30, dandelionseeds, dauntlessdemigodshadowhunter, estallias, greece60, gryffindoroar, heiressofanor, iceprincess2020, justalittleawesome, kaytriactr, kittycat1810, mersan123, mizzymel, morbidbookworm, moroflake, oliviilskov, sarajm, skydoe16, soccerlover91, sparrowsmelody, staymagical, steellord, suprNEONligt, theidjitqueen, wilow77, xJackFrostx, xXLadyLaufeyXx, xxxLeanniexxx, yummypie193, and zendog for following.**_

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 _ **Thank you NerdGirlAlert, Random Chaos, RangerHorseTug, XphiaDP, mersan123, Percy James Frost, Pilyarquitect, Linorien, Chatterbox818, xxxLeanniexxx, Lycropanthy, katiec345, Ladyliz2, Saimiri, TheDarkestDreams, and Stitch2012 for reviewing last chapter.**_

 _ **I feel I left people out. Feel free to call me out if that is the case :) And review!**_

 _ **~Lya200~**_


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